Reading The Kings of Clonmel
by Xayhra
Summary: Yes, I know it's the 8th book in the series, but I've always wanted to write this. Major Will and Horace and occasional-Who am I kidding?-a lot of Gilan whumping after prologue! T because of violence in the book. Please read. My first semi-serious fic. That's not gonna last long. . . .
1. Prologue

**I've always wanted to write this because book nine is my favorite book in the series. You can't really do book nine without doing book eight. I'll try to finish it before I graduate. Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ranger's Apprentice.**

King Duncan sat back in his throne. He hated trials. This one was a man who had allegedly killed his wife of twenty years.

The door opened and Cassandra skipped in. "Dad! We got a package the mail!" She was holding the package in her hands.

"Who's it from?" Duncan asked as Cass plopped down on the throne next to his.

Cass glanced at the box. "From some weird person named—" Cass paused. "Um. . . . Xayhra Silverthorne."

"What's in it?"

Cass opened the box and pulled out a very strange book.

Duncan took the book. "What a strange cover! Is that Horace on the cover? It isn't handwritten!"

"Amazing, isn't it?" Cassandra exclaimed. "We should read this with Horace and Will and Halt and some other people."

THE NEXT WEEK

"We've gathered here today—" Duncan started.

"To celebrate the life of Mr. A. I. Person. You sound like you're at a funeral." Halt said drily.

"A. I.?" Will asked.

"Annoying Invisible," Halt explained.

Duncan glared at him. "Aaaass I was saying, I got this book in the mail and I thought we should read it together."

Horace stared at him. "So, because you want to read some book, me, Halt, Will, Crowley, Cassie, Alyss, Malcolm, King Sean, and Gilan have to be here?"

"It's not 'some book,' Horace, it's about yours, Will's, and Halt's adventures in Clonmel." Duncan said.

"There's a book about me?!" Will asked.

Halt glowered at him, "Notice the 'Horace's, Will's, and Halt's' part."

Alyss rolled her eyes. "Let's just read it before they start arguing again."

**How's that for a prologue? Next chappie will be the first chapter of The Kings of Clonmel. Please review. **


	2. Chapter 1

**Thanks to AreiaCananaid, Dash99, Icestorm238, and Savannah Silverstone for their reviews! Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes. If you have any pointers to give me I would appreciate it! Parts from The Kings of Clonmel will be in bold.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ranger's Apprentice or War and Peace.**

Duncan led them into the sitting room in his quarters. A roaring fire covered one wall. Couches, loveseats, and chairs surrounded the blaze. Tapestries, pictures, and lamps hung from the other walls. The main color of the room was a dark forest green, giving the room a secluded but comfortable look.

They sat down and looked at Duncan uncertainly. He rolled his eyes. "Relax. It's not like you're in the company of a king."

Everyone tried to decide if this was supposed to be a joke. Halt sighed. "Get on with it, Duncan."

"Touché," Duncan replied, "I'll go first because I'm the one who received it in the mail." He started to read:

"**SOUTHERN CLONMEL, THE ISLAND OF HIBERNIA.**

** "The farmers had risen at first light, bringing in their cattle for milking, and releasing the sheep and chickens that had been kept overnight in the barn to protect them from nocturnal marauders."**

"Wow, Will," Crowley said sarcastically, "your life is just so interesting."

Will glared at him. "Did you not hear the 'Southern Clonmel, the Island of Hibernia' part? That could be Halt's life."

"That is so not my early life!" Halt argued.

Everyone who did not know that Halt would have been the king of Clonmel if he wanted to and if Ferris hadn't tried to kill him asked, "What do you mean?"

"All will be explained," Will answered, glad he finally wasn't the one asking.

Duncan glared at them, "At this rate, it's not gonna happen!"

"Sorry, Duncan," they muttered.

He continued:

**"The leader of the bandits crouched among the trees and smiled grimly to himself. Today, the inhabitants of this little group of farms would have more to worry about than animal predators. Today, real danger lurked inside the tree line, concealed from the eyes of the farmers as they went about their routine tasks.**

** "His men had been in position since long before first light. A less experienced leader might have chosen to attack at dawn. Most people thought that was the best time for a surprise attack. But the bandit knew his business. Farmers rose early. They were wide-awake at dawn. They were prepared for unexpected danger, even if it were only a fox or a marauding wolf. And they often had tools ready at hand—axes and spades and scythes—that would serve as makeshift weapons in the event of an attack."**

Will shrank back in his chair. This reminded him of what had happened to his mom. Halt looked sympathetically at his former apprentice. He knew what the poor young man would be thinking.

**"It was better, he knew, to wait until they had finished their early morning tasks and were heading in to breakfast. The sun would be up by then and warm on their backs. They'd be relaxed and a little weary from their labor, and looking forward to the hot meal their wives had waiting for them. Their defenses would be down and that was the best time to attack them.**

** "He saw the nearest pair, who had been repairing a fallen fence rail, stop now and lay their tools down. One called to a group of three a little farther away. He stretched, his hands rubbing his back where the muscles were stiff. The bandit couldn't make out the reply, but tone was clear. It was good-humored, amused. Just a typical morning out in the fields. **

** "The bandit leader gave a satisfied nod as he saw the men begin walking to the largest building. The little hamlet was probably a family settlement—mother and father in the big house; their offspring with their families in the smaller houses that had been built nearby. The one big barn served all of the families. He'd heard the high-pitched voices of several children chattering early on. A welcoming curl of wood smoke rose from the chimney and he knew that the wives would all be gathered in there, preparing a communal breakfast. He picked up the mouthwatering aroma of bacon frying."**

Duncan looked up from the book as he heard a snore. "Horace!" he shouted to the sleeping lump.

Horace jumped and tumbled off the couch he had been sleeping on, much to the pleasure of the Rangers in the room. Horace glared at them. "What?"

"You fell asleep." Cassandra accused.

"Yeah, I thought that books were made to help you sleep!" Horace protested.

Halt rolled his eyes. "And _that_, everyone, is why Horace does not think."

They laughed at that and Horace eventually cracked a smile.

After everyone calmed down, Duncan continued:

**"At that moment, the door to the farmhouse opened and the oldest woman emerged. She moved to an iron barrel hoop hanging from a post and beat a rapid tattoo on it with a hardwood stick. The message was clear: Breakfast was ready. Not that the farmers needed telling. They were all on their way by this point.**

** "The bandit reached into his pocket and found a bone whistle. He raised it to his lips, sensing the men closest to him stirring as they saw the movement. Then he blew a loud, piercing blast and rose from concealment, drawing his sword and yelling as he ran forward.**

** "His men followed, charging into the open from three sides around the settlement. They were fierce, terrifying figures, wearing half armor and carrying weapons. Bloodcurdling war cries rose into the morning air as they ran forward."**

"Look how boring my life is now!" Will jeered.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "I thought we had established that this isn't your life?"

Halt sighed. "Well, you gave me two openings there and I just don't know which one to use."

"How about neither?" Duncan muttered and, while glaring at those who had a tendency to talk, continued:

**"The farmers were frozen in surprise for a moment. Then one of the younger ones was first to react. He reached for the ax he had just leaned against a water trough. Before he could raise it, an arrow flashed across the clearing and buried itself in his throat. He gave a choking cry and staggered, falling half into the trough. The water rapidly began to turn red with his blood.**

** "'Inside the house! Quickly! Maeve, get the—' the father called. But it was already too late. The first of the raiders was upon him and a sword thrust cut off his word. His face showed surprise, then pain, as he sank to the ground and lay, unmoving."**

Alyss screamed. Will stared at her. "Alyss?"

She glared at him. "What?"

"Why did you just scream?"

"Because he died!"

"Alyss, wait until we read the part where I'm dying," Halt said.

"That's in the next book, Halt," Crowley admonished.

"Well, whatever," Halt muttered.

Duncan interrupted, "As I was saying:

**"His killer leaped over the body and shouldered the door of the farmhouse open. It was a mistake. The woman who had rung the breakfast gong was waiting with a pot of freshly boiled water, which she flung in his face.**

** "He screamed in agony and lurched to one side, dropping the bloody sword and throwing his hands up to his face. But the woman didn't have long to savor her momentary triumph. The raider following him struck swiftly with his sword and cut her down, her body falling across the threshold and preventing those inside from closing the door.**

** "The remaining men outside tried in vain to stave off the attack. But they were fighting with their bare hands and didn't stand a chance. In rapid order, they were surrounded and cut down by the raiders, without pity or compassion. They were badly outnumbered and their attempts to protect their women and children were to no avail. **

** "The bandit leader stood back a little from the group who surrounded the fallen bodies. He'd seen one of the farmers dart aside into the barn.**

** "Now he reappeared, his gaze intent on the men surrounding the dead and dying members of his family. He had a long pitchfork in his hands and he raised it as he ran forward."**

The door creaked open and everyone looked up. Pauline sighed, "I tried to come in quietly, but, no, you had to look up."

Halt grinned, "Hi, Pauline. Why are you late? I don't think you've ever been late before."

She frowned at him. "I had a holdup at work, if you must know."

Horace leaned over and whispered something in Sean's ear, which made Sean promptly fall off his chair laughing.

Halt scowled at them. "Did you say something rude about my wife?"

Horace had, in fact, said something not very nice about Pauline, "It was a joke, Halt!"

Halt went to grab the two troublemakers but Duncan interrupted them, "They can sleep in a pine tree later, Halt."

"Fine, finish the chapter already."

"I've been trying:

**"He never saw the bandit leader. He only felt the searing agony of the sword thrust into his side, underneath his raised arm. He tried to cry out but was unable. He fell facedown. **

** "'You should have run when you had the chance,' the leader said.**

** "Inside the house, three women cowered in the large kitchen as half a dozen men forced their way in.**

** "The women saw the bloodied swords and knew their menfolk were gone. One of them raised her hands in entreaty.**

** "'Mercy,' she pleaded. But there was no mercy that day."**

The women stifled gasps of horror, and the men shook their heads.

**"The raiders, oblivious to the splashed blood and sprawled bodies around them, helped themselves hungrily to the platters of hot, sizzling bacon and fresh baked bread that had been laid out for the men's breakfast.**

** "'They won't be needing it,' one said. He added, 'And it's a sin to waste good food.'**

** "The others laughed as they crammed the food into their mouths. But one stood aside, his head cocked, listening. From the adjoining room, he could hear a furtive hacking, scraping sound. He crossed the kitchen and pushed the inner door open with the blade of his sword.**

Duncan started to read more dramatically and pause at the most exciting parts.

**"It was dimmer in the bedroom, with no window in the far wall, and his eyes took a second or two to adjust. Then he made out three forms, knelling by the back wall. A woman, a boy, and a girl, the children about ten years old. The woman was frantically hacking at the wall with a heavy kitchen knife. Now she stopped, looking up in horror at the silhouette that filled the door way. Strangely, the raider paused and waited as she attacked the wall with new vigor, creating a hole large enough for the children to squeeze through. He watched impassively as she shoved the two wriggling young ones through the exit she'd created.**

** "'Run, Seamus! Run, Molly!' she said.**

** "Then she heard the sound of a footstep and looked up to see the tall figure approaching her. She wondered vaguely why he'd given her time to let the young ones escape. Then she stood and looked the stranger in the eye, facing him calmly."**

"Wait—Halt, do you meet these kids later?" Cassandra asked.

"No, but, if you listened, you'd find out," he replied.

"This isn't even about you yet!" she protested.

"If you keep talking we'll never get to the part about him!" Duncan argued and went back to the story:

**"'The Holy Man warned us you would come,' she said bitterly. 'We should have listened.'**

** "He drew his sword back and smiled—an ugly grimace of a smile that was without any vestige of pity.**

** "'Yes. You should have,' he said, and brought the sword down.**

** "In the trees, a figure stood watching the attack. He was tall, with shoulder-length white-gray hair. His eyes were a piercing blue and he wore a dull gray woolen cloak over a white, full-length robe. He watched as two children appeared at the end of the largest house—a boy and a girl. They paused uncertainty, but the men grouped around their dead kinsmen were facing away from them and they remained unseen. The tall man smiled as the boy took the little girl's hand and led her stooping and running to the tree line at the far side of the clearing.**

** "'Good," he said, nodding his approval. 'Leave a few survivors to spread the word.'**

"Well, that's it for the first chapter! What did you guys think?" Duncan finished.

"I wasn't in it!" Horace cried. "Worst book ever!"

"Dude," Will said, "that's only the first chapter."

"You mean there's more?"

Halt stared at him incredulously. "I thought you were smarter than that!"

Horace grinned and said, "And _that_, everyone, is why Halt does not think."

Halt scowled at him and threw a hefty copy of _War and Peace_ at the young man. "That doesn't even make sense!"

Horace caught the book and decided not to say anything else.

An awkward silence followed only to be broken as Crowley announced, "I want coffee."

**Sorry, this chappie isn't so good but I couldn't do much because none of the main characters were in it. Please review.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Thanks to Dash99, IFYOUCOULDFLY, AreiaCananaid, Savannah Silverstone, Icestorm238, and Unfocused and Confused for their reviews! Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ranger's Apprentice.**

"Okay, who wants to read next?" Duncan asked.

Seeing as the second chapter probably didn't have him in it, Halt volunteered, "I'll do it."

Duncan passed him the book and Halt started to read:

** "It was Tug, of course, who first sensed the presence of the other horse and rider."**

"Of course it is," Will said, "my horse is awesome beyond compare."

"Is that so, Will?" Crowley sniffed.

Halt saw that this was going nowhere fast. "Aaannnnddd, as I was saying:

** "His ears twitched upward and Will felt, rather than heard, the low rumble that vibrated through the little horse's barrel-like body. It was not an alarm signal, so Will knew that whoever Tug had sensed, it was someone familiar to him. He leaned forward and patted the shaggy mane.**

** "'Good boy,' he said softly. 'Now where are they?'**

** "He already had a fair idea who it would be. And even as he spoke, his guess was confirmed as a bay horse and tall rider trotted out of the trees some hundred meters ahead of him to wait at the crossroads there. Tug snorted again, tossing his head. **

** "'All right. I can see them.'**

** "He touched Tug lightly with his heels and the horse responded instantly, moving to a canter to close the distance. The bay whinnied a greeting, to which Tug responded."**

"Who thinks I see Horace?" Will asked.

Cassandra, Crowley, Pauline, and Malcolm raised their hands.

"Who thinks I see Gilan?" Will queried.

Alyss, Halt, Gilan, Duncan, Horace, and Sean raised their hands.

Will grinned, "Why don't you tell us who I see, Halt?"

**"'Gilan!' Will shouted cheerfully as they came within easy earshot. The tall Ranger waved a hand in reply, grinning as Will and Tug clattered to a stop beside him."**

"Yeah! I was right!" Horace yelled.

Halt sighed and rolled his eyes. "And so were Alyss, me, Gilan, and Sean. Anyways, you would have remembered being there, Horace. Back to the story:

**"The two Rangers leaned over in their saddles to clasp right hands.**

** "'It's good to see you,' Gilan said.**

** "'You too. I thought it would be you. Tug let me know there were friends nearby.'**

** "'Not much gets by that shaggy little beast of yours, does it?' Gilan said easily. 'I suppose that's what's kept you alive these past years.'**

** "'Little?' Will replied. 'I've noticed that Blaze isn't exactly a battlehorse.'"**

The more immature people in the room made "Ooooooooooooh" noises.

The more mature people in the room rolled their eyes at the less mature people in the room.

**"In truth, Blaze was a little longer in the leg than the average Ranger horse, and had slightly finer lines. But like all of the breed, Gilan's bay mare was still considerably smaller than the massive battlehorses that carried the kingdom's knights into battle.**

** "'While the two young Rangers chaffed at each other, the horses seemed to be carrying on a similar conversation, with a lot of snorting and head tossing to punctuate the good-natured horsey insults they were undoubtedly swapping. Ranger horses definitely seemed to communicate with each other, and Gilan regarded both of them curiously."**

Will sighed, "When aren't you curious about something, Gilan?"

Everyone's eyes turned to Will. Halt snorted, "You're one to talk."

Will opened his mouth to argue, but Halt beat him:

**"'Wonder what the devil they're saying?' he mused.**

** "'I think Tug just commented on how uncomfortable Blaze must be, carrying a spindle-shanked bag of bones like yourself,' Will told him. Gilan opened his mouth to reply in kind, but oddly, at that very moment, Tug nodded his head violently several times, and both horses turned their heads to study Gilan. It was a coincidence, the tall Ranger told himself. And yet it was uncanny how they chose that very moment to do it.**

** "'You know,' he said, 'I have a strange feeling that you might be right.'"**

Will grinned, "That's because I'm always right."

Crowley turned to Will. "What's my last name?"

"Pinkkittykiwi."

"I rest my case."

"Can we get on with this?" Halt asked, exasperated.

"Yes, Halt," they muttered.

"**Will looked back along the road he had just traveled, then down the crossroad, in the opposite direction to the one from which Gilan had emerged.**

"'**Any sign of Halt so far?'**

"**Gilan shook his head. 'I've been waiting the best part of two hours, and I haven't seen him yet. Odd, because he has the shortest distance to travel.'**

"**It was the time of the annual Ranger Gathering, and it had become the custom for the three friends to meet at these crossroads, a few kilometers short of the Gathering Ground, and ride the remaining distance together. When Will had been apprenticed to Halt, he had grown used to meeting Gilan here. That was after Will's first Gathering, when Gilan had attempted to ambush his old teacher and Will had spoiled the attempt. Since Will had taken over Seacliff Fief and Gilan had been posted to Norgate, they had continued the practice whenever possible."**

Alyss grinned happily, no more of that red-haired girl from Seacliff.

"'**Should we wait?' Will said.**

"**Gilan shrugged. 'If he's not here yet, something must have held him up. We might as well ride in and set up camp.' He urged his horse forward with the lightest touch of his heel. Will did likewise and they rode on side by side.**

"You do know that I could have been ambushed and taken prisoner, right?" Halt asked.

"Yeah," Gilan said, "but we were fairly sure that you weren't."

"Fairly sure?!"

"Of course. Now, get back to the story."

"Fine:

"**Sometime later, they arrived at the Gathering Ground. It was a relatively open forest area where the undergrowth had been cleared away. The tall trees had been left to provide sheltered spots where the Rangers could pitch their low, one-man tents.**

"**They rode toward their usual spot, calling greetings to other Rangers as they passed. The Corps was a close-knit unit, and most Rangers knew each other by name. Arriving at their spot, the dismounted and unsaddled their horses, rubbing them down after their long ride. Will took two folding leather buckets and fetched water from the small stream that wandered through the Gathering Ground while Gilan measured out oats for Blaze and Tug. For the next few days, the horses could graze on the lush grass that grew underfoot, but they deserved a treat after their hard work.**

"**And Rangers never begrudged their horses a treat."**

Halt glared at his former apprentices. "I suppose you gave them five billion apples too?"

"Of course not, Halt, they'd explode if we gave them that many apples!" Will protested.

Halt face-palmed and continued:

"**They swept the area clear of fallen branches and then pitched tents. The fireplace stones had been disturbed, possibly by some wandering animal, and Will quickly replaced them. **

"'**I'm beginning to wonder where Halt's got to,' Gilan said, glancing to the west, where the lowering sun's light filtered through the trunks of the trees. 'He's certainly taking his time getting here.'**

"Oh, so you're just wondering what happened to me? I could have been killed by those bandits that had ambushed me!"

"Yeah, but you're still alive." Gilan said.

Halt sighed. Sometimes his former apprentices were so clueless—oh, wait, that was all the time.

"'**Maybe he's not coming,' Will suggested. **

"**Gilan pursed his lips. 'Halt miss a Gathering?' he said, disbelief in his tone. 'He loves coming to the Gathering each year. And he wouldn't miss a chance to catch up with you.'**

"**Like Will, Gilan was a former apprentice of Halt's. But he knew that there was a very special relationship between the grizzled senior Ranger and his young friend—one that went way past the master and apprentice relationship that he shared with Halt. Will was more of a son to Halt."**

"Awwwwwwwwwwwww." Everyone but Will and Halt said. Halt suddenly found something in the ceiling very interesting. Will studied his boots like his life depended on it.

"'**No,' he continued, 'I can't think of anything that would keep him away.'"**

"This is where I come in!" Crowley shouted.

"'**Well, apparently something has,' a familiar voice behind them interrupted.**

"**Will and Gilan turned quickly to find Crowley standing behind them. The Ranger Commandant was a master of silent movement.**

"'**Crowley!' Gilan said. 'Where did you spring from? And how is it I never hear you coming?'**

"Because you're deaf, blind, stupid, and, we continue to hope, mute." Halt said sarcastically.

"That's just evil, Halt!" Gilan cried.

Halt rubbed his hands together and cackled before Pauline kicked him. He coughed and rubbed his shin.

"**Crowley grinned. The skill was one he was proud of.**

"'**Oh, being able to sneak up on people has its advantages in the political world of Castle Araluen,' he said. 'People are always discussing secrets, and you'd be surprised how many snippets I pick up before they realize I'm there.'"**

Duncan wondered how much Crowley had heard of his conversations.

"**The two young Rangers stood and shook hands with their Commandant. They all sat down, and while Gilan brewed a pot of coffee, Will asked the question that had been on his mind since Crowley's sudden appearance.**

"'**Is Halt really not coming?'**

"**Crowley nodded. 'I received a message from him the day before yesterday. He's off on the West Coast, chasing down rumors about some new religious cult that's cropped up. Said he wouldn't have time to make it back here.'"**

"Where's your bandits now, Halt, hmm?" Will jeered.

"The religious cult could have captured me!"

A voice sounded through the ceiling, "Halt's too epic to get captured!"

Duncan stared at the ceiling. "Who was that?"

The voice came again, "Do not argue with the author!"

"But I wasn't—"

"Don't say anything, Duncan," Pauline said wisely.

"'**A religious cult?' Will asked. 'What sort of religious cult?'**

"**The corners of Crowley's mouth turned down in an expression of distaste. 'The usual sort, I'm afraid.' He glanced at Gilan for confirmation. 'You know the type of thing, don't you, Gil?'**

"**Gilan nodded. 'Only too well. "Come join our new religion,"' he mock quoted. '"Our god is the only true god and he will protect you from the doom that is coming to the world. You will be safe and secure with us. Oh . . . and by the way, would you mind giving us all your valuables for the privilege of being kept safe?" Is that the sort of thing?' he asked."**

"I like the way you put that, Gilan," Pauline said.

"Why, thank you," he replied, sweeping a bow from his chair and failing miserably, which caused several people in the room to laugh at his awkward attempt.

"**Crowley sighed heavily. 'That's pretty much it in a nutshell. They warn people about impending disaster, and all the time, they're the ones who are planning to cause it.'**

"**Gilan poured three steaming cups of coffee and passed them around.**

"**Crowley watched as the two younger Rangers spooned generous helpings of wild honey into theirs. He shook his head. 'Never could get used to the taste of honey in my coffee. Halt and I used to argue about that in our younger days.'**

"**Will grinned. 'If you're Halt's apprentice, you don't have a choice. You learn to shoot a bow, throw a knife, move silently, and put honey in your coffee.'"**

Halt, Gilan, and Will nodded. "Accepted fact of life." They said in unison.

Halt stared at his apprentices. "Well, after ten years, we're finally on the same page."

"I think it's been more than ten years, Halt," Gilan said.

"Whatever. It's close. Back to the book:

"'**He's a fine teacher,' Gilan said, sipping his coffee appreciatively. 'So did Halt say what this new cult calls itself? They usually come up with some portentous-sounding name.' he added, in an aside to Will.**

"'**He didn't say.' Crowley said. He seemed to be hesitating over whether to voice his next statement. Then he came to a decision. 'He's worried this might be a new outbreak of the Outsiders.'"**

"What's the Outsiders?" Cassandra asked.

Halt looked at her drily. "If you listened you would figure it out."

"Sorry, Halt," she muttered.

Halt nodded and continued:

"**The name meant nothing to Will, but he saw Gilan's head come up.**

"'**The Outsiders?' Gilan said. 'I remember that name. It must have been in the second year of my apprenticeship. Didn't you and Halt go off together to see them on their way?'**

"**Crowley nodded. 'Along with Berrigan and several other Rangers.'**

"'**That must have been quite a cult,' Will said, surprise in his voice. There was an old Araluen saying—'One riot, one Ranger'—which meant that it rarely took more than a single Ranger to solve the biggest problems."**

Everyone nodded at the saying. It was true. "Wait—why did you pair Will, Halt, and I together if it only takes one Ranger?" Horace asked.

"And the obvious train just crashed and died." Crowley said.

"'**It was,' Crowley agreed. 'They were a very unpleasant bunch of people, and their poison had gone deep into the heart of the countryside. It took us some time to get the better of them. That's why Halt is so intent on finding out more about this new group. If they're a recurrence of the Outsiders, we'll have to act quickly.'**

"**He tossed the dregs of his coffee into the fire and set his cup down.**

"'**But let's not worry about what might be a problem until we know that it is. In the meantime, we have a Gathering to organize. Gil, I was wondering if you'd give our two final-year apprentices some extra tuition on unseen movement?'**

"'**Of course,' Gilan said. If Crowley was an expert at moving without being heard, Gilan was the Corps' master at moving without being seen. To a large degree, his skill was dependent upon instinct, but there were always practical tips he could pass on to others."**

"Oh, yeah!" Gilan said and air high-fived Crowley. Everyone else rolled their eyes.

"'**And as for you, Will,' Crowley said, 'we have three first-years this season. Would you be interested in assessing their progress?'**

"**He saw Will's attention snap back to the present. He could tell that the young man was still nursing his disappointment over the fact that his former teacher would not be coming. Just as well to give him something to take his mind off it, the older Ranger thought.**

"'**Oh, sorry, Crowley! What was that you said?' Will asked, a little guiltily.**

"See what I had to go through?" Halt asked.

Horace snickered. "And still have to go through, right?"

"Exactly! But you don't really have room to talk."

"Fine." Horace grumbled.

"'**Would you care to help out assessing our three first-years?' Crowley repeated, and Will nodded hastily. **

"'**Yes, by all means! Sorry. I was just thinking about Halt. I've been looking forward to seeing him,' he explained.**

"'**We all have,' Crowley said. 'His grumpy face brings a special light to our day. But there'll be time enough for that later.' He hesitated briefly. 'As a matter of fact . . . no, never mind. That'll keep.'**

"Just to let you know, Crowley, I am not grumpy." Halt objected.

"Suuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeee," everyone said.

Halt glared at them but plowed on:

"'**What will keep?' Will's curiosity was aroused now, and Crowley smiled to himself. Curiosity was the sign of a good Ranger. But so was discipline.**

"'**Never mind. It's something I'll tell you about when the time is right. For now, I'd appreciate it if you'd coach the boys in archery and oversee tactical exercise with them.'**

"'**Consider it done.' Will thought for a few seconds, then added, 'Do I need to set the tactical exercise?'**

"**Crowley shook his head. 'No. We've done that. Just see them through solving it. It should amuse you,' he added cryptically. He rose and dusted off the seat of his trousers. 'Thanks for the coffee,' he said. 'See you at the feast tonight.'**

"And that's it for the second chapter. What did you guys think?"

"I'm still not in it!" Horace whined.

Crowley grinned. "But I was." Then he turned to Duncan, "Whatever happened to my coffee?"

**Sorry for the late update. Hope you liked it! Please review!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Thanks to Savannah Silverstone, Mezzem313, AreiaCananaid, Guest Ranger Robbin (Sorry, I have trouble with that. I'll see what I can do but it'll probably be mostly the same), and Hatakefire for their reviews! Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes. There are a couple references to my story Halt Goes to the Dentist. I couldn't resist. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ranger's Apprentice or Person of Interest.**

Crowley nursed his coffee. Duncan had finally had some coffee made and brought up to them.

Halt, Will, Gilan, and Horace drowned their coffee in honey while Crowley sighed disapprovingly. "You're ruining perfectly good coffee."

"Maybe," Horace said, putting another spoonful of honey in his coffee.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Can I read?"

Duncan shrugged. "Okay." He handed the book to Crowley.

Crowley flipped to chapter three and read:

**"'All right,' Will told the three boys, 'Let's see you shoot. Ten arrows each.'**

** "He indicated three large, standard bull's-eye-design targets set up seventy-five meters downrange. The three stepped forward to the firing line. A little farther down the line, two senior Rangers were practicing, shooting at targets no larger than a large dinner platter, set at the one-hundred-and-fifty-meter mark. For a few moments, the three first-year apprentices watched in awe as the two marksmen slammed arrow after arrow into the almost invisible target.**

** "'Anytime before sunset would be fine,' Will drawled. He had no idea that he was mimicking the dry, mock-weary tone of voice that Halt had used with him when he was first learning the skills of a Ranger."**

"Ah-ha, ah-ha!" Halt yelled. "What did I tell you? My teaching always works!"

"I do that?" Will asked, aghast.

"Never," Horace said drily.

"Hey! That's no fair!" Will objected. "You've been hanging around Halt and me too much!"

"Halt and I," Malcolm corrected.

"Are you sure?"

"No."

Crowley sighed. "If all of you would shut up, I'll continue!"

Halt smirked. "No y'all?"

Crowley glared at him.

**"'Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,' said the nearest of the three boys. They all looked at him, wide-eyed. He sighed.**

** "'Stuart?' he said to the boy who had spoken.**

** "'Yes, sir?'**

** "'You don't call me sir. We're both Rangers.'**

**"'But . . . ,' began one of the other boys. He was stockily built and had a mass of red hair that flopped untidily over his forehead. Will searched his memory for the boy's name: Liam, he remembered."**

All the Rangers nodded, remembering this same situation from when they were apprentices and coming from their former apprentices.

**"The boy shuffled awkwardly. 'But we're apprentices, and you're—' He stopped. He wasn't sure what he was going to say. It was probably something ridiculous like, 'But we're apprentices and you're **_**you**_**.'"**

"Why would he say that?" Will asked, completely clueless.

"Cover Will's ears, Halt," Crowley commanded. Halt did so.

** "Because although Will didn't know it, he was a subject of awe for these boys. He was the legendary Will Treaty, the Ranger who had rescued the King's daughter from Morgarath's Wargal army, then protected her when they were kidnapped by raiding Skandians. Then he had trained and led a company of archers in the battle against the Temujai riders. And only the previous year, he had repelled a Scotti invasion on the northern frontier of the kingdom.**

Will fought against Halt. "Why can't I listen to my own story?!"

"Because we're making fun of you," Halt said.

Will sighed and gave up.

**"These three would look up to any graduate Ranger. But Will Treaty was only a few years older than they were, and so was a subject for hero worship of the highest degree. As a result, they had been somewhat surprised when they met him. They had expected a larger-than-life figure—a hero in classical terms. Instead, they were introduced to a fresh-faced, youthful person with a ready smile and a slim build, who stood a little less than average height. Had Will realized it, he would have been amused and more than a little embarrassed. It was exactly the same reaction he was used to seeing in people who met Halt for the first time. Unknown to him, his own reputation was beginning to rival that of his former apprentice.**

** "Will may not have comprehended the hero worship these boys felt for him personally. But he did understand the gulf they felt existed between a Ranger and an apprentice. He had felt the same way.**

"Okay, you can let him go, Halt," Crowley said. Halt complied.

"Now will you tell me why I couldn't listen?" Will asked.

"No," King Duncan said.

"Rude. . . ."

"Shaddup."

**"'You're apprentice Rangers,' he said. 'And the important word there is **_**Rangers**_**.' He tapped the silver oakleaf amulet that hung around his neck. 'As a wearer of the Silver Oakleaf, I might expect obedience and some level of deference from you. But I do **_**not**_** expect you to call me sir. My name is Will, and that's what you call me. You'd call my friend Gilan and my former master Halt, if he were here. That's the Ranger way.'"**

"When did you start being longwinded?" Sean asked.

"I'm not longwinded!" Will protested.

"Looked pretty long to me," Sean said.

"Well, it wasn't."

Crowley sighed. "If you ladies would shut up, we could continue."

"I'm not a lady!" they protested in unison.

"That's to be determined," Halt muttered.

Crowley sighed again and ignored them.

**"It was a small point, he knew, but an important one. Rangers were a unique breed and on occasion they needed to assert authority over people who were nominally far senior to them in rank. It was important that these boys knew that they might one day need to call upon the power and trust that the King conferred upon his Rangers. All of them—apprentices and graduates alike. The self-confidence they would need to do so was built initially by their sense of equality with their peers in the Ranger Corps.**

** "The three apprentices exchanged glances as they took in what Will had said. He saw their shoulders straighten a little, their chins come up fractionally."**

Halt smiled. "See, Will, all that training I gave you is paying off."

"You already said that, Halt," Horace pointed out.

"Whatever. It still works."

** "'Yes . . . Will,' said Liam. He nodded to himself, as if trying the word out and liking what he heard. The others echoed the sentiment, nodding in their turn. Will gave them a few moments to savor the sense of confidence, then glanced meaningfully at the sun.**

** "'Well, sunset's getting closer all the time,' he said to himself. He hid a smile as three arrows slid out of their quivers. A few seconds later, the bows twanged and he heard the familiar scrape-slither as the shots were on their way to the target."**

"You know, Halt, I might just surpass you at this sarcasm thing," Will said smugly.

Before Halt could respond, Pauline said, "Will, I wouldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because you shouldn't mess with epicness."

"I'm sure there are people more epic than Halt," Will muttered.

The voice came from the ceiling again, "DON'T EVEN GO THERE!"

"Oh, come on, there has got to be someone who you like better than Halt!" Will objected.

"Halt, Mr. Reese, and Finch are equally epic!"

"True. . . ." everyone agreed.

They heard the voice say something that sounded suspiciously like, "I love making the characters do whatever I want."

**"'Ten shots,' he said. 'Then we'll see how you're doing.'**

** "He strolled to a nearby tree and sat beneath it, his back leaning comfortably against the trunk. With his cowl pulled up and his face in shadow, he seemed to be dozing.**

** "But his eyes were moving ceaselessly, missing nothing as he studied every aspect of the three boys' shooting technique.**

"**For the next two days, Will assessed their skills with the bow, correcting small faults in technique as he did so. Liam had developed a habit of measuring his full draw by touching his right thumb to the corner of his mouth."**

"It was funny when you did that and had that bruise on your arm for a week," Halt snickered.

"That's mean, Halt," Will whined.

"That was the whole point."

Crowley glared at them. "You guys are like ADD seventh graders! Pay attention!

**"'Touch your mouth with your forefinger, not the thumb,' Will told him. 'If you use the thumb, your hand tends to twist to the right, and that will throw the arrow off line when you release.'**

** "Liam nodded and made the slight adjustment. Immediately, his accuracy improved—particularly on the longer shots, where the slight change in angle had a greater effect.**

** "Nick, the quietest of the three, was gripping his bow too tightly. He was an intense young man and eager to succeed. Will sensed that was where the viselike grip came from. Nick was allowing his determination to affect the relaxed grip that the bow needed. A tight grip meant the bow often skewed to the left at the moment of the release, resulting in a wild, inaccurate shot. Again, Will corrected the fault and set the young man to practice.**

** "Stuart's technique was sound, without any major faults at this stage. But like the others, his skill would only reach the required Ranger level with hours of practice.**

** "'Practice and more practice,' Will told them. 'Remember the old saying: "An ordinary archer practices until he gets it right. A Ranger practices . . ."?' He let the phrase hang in the air, waiting for them to finish it off.**

** "'Until he never gets it wrong,' they chorused. He nodded, smiling approval."**

Horace smirked. "How's that Gangnam Style coming along, Halt?"

"Shut up."

"I don't think that's an answer."

"That's why you don't think."

"You're mean, Halt!"

"I pride myself in that."

"Halt!" Pauline objected.

Halt sighed and let it go.

**"'Remember it,' he said.**

** "On the third day, however, there was a respite from the hours of practice with the bow. The previous evening, the boys had received the written outline of the tactical exercise that had been set for them. They had spent the hours between dinner and lights-out going over the problem and forming their first ideas for a solution."**

"You guys have lights-out?" Cassandra asked.

"Yeah. It sucks," Will moaned.

"And it's so fun to dump apprentices who thought they could stay up late into nearby icy rivers," Halt said happily.

**"Will had received the details of their assignment at the same time. He shook his head when he read the outline.**

** "'Crowley and his sense of humor,' he said, closing the folder in mild exasperation. Gilan looked up from where he was sewing up a tear in his cloak. He'd chosen to demonstrate unseen movement through a thorntree clump that afternoon, and his cloak had paid the price."**

Halt grinned. "I always told you that was a bad idea."

"Whoa—hold up, people!" Alyss interrupted. "Gilan sews?"

"Yeah, all Rangers do," Gilan said, puzzled.

"I have got to tell Jenny this!"

Duncan sighed. "People, this chapter is almost two thousand words long! Stop bickering!"

"Finally!" Crowley said. "Someone agrees with me! Now, back to the book:

**"'What's he done?' he asked.**

** "Will smacked the folder with the back of his hand. 'This tactical assignment. The one he said would amuse me? The boys have to devise a way to besiege and capture a castle garrisoned by invaders and set in a northern fief. They have to recruit a suitable attacking force and take the castle. Sound familiar?'**

"Hey! I thought it was pretty clever!" Crowley protested.

"It was," Malcolm said. "Will just doesn't have a sense of humor."

"You're one to talk," Will muttered.

"Shaddup."

**"Gilan grinned. 'I've heard of someone having a similar problem,' he admitted.**

** "It was almost identical to the situation that had faced Will the previous winter, at Castle Macindaw.**

** "'Seems like my life's becoming a walking tactical exercise,' Will grumbled.**

"Cover his ears again, Halt," Crowley said. Halt did so and Will was subject to not being able to hear his own story—again.

** "He was closer to the truth than he realized. Crowley had circulated a detailed account of the siege to the entire Corps. Will's fellow Rangers had studied his tactics and were highly impressed by them. Those with apprentices had begun using the siege as an example of initiative and imagination in dealing with the problem of having a much smaller force than common tactical wisdom would deem suitable.**

** "Gilan knew all this, but he didn't think it would be a good idea to tell Will. He sensed that his friend might be embarrassed at the thought of such notoriety. Naturally, Will had been the only Ranger in the Corps who had not received Crowley's summary.**

"Okay, Halt, we're good," Crowley said. Halt let go of Will and Will rubbed his ears.

"'**What resources do they have available?' Gilan asked.**

"**Will frowned as he opened the folder again, turning to the Assets and Resources list. Having been set the problem, the boys were given certain resources they could draw on to help them devise a solution.**

"'**A traveling jongleur,' he read. That had been his own disguise at Macindaw. 'Very funny. He won't be much help. One mounted knight—hello, Horace. The former garrison of the castle—forty of them, scattered all over the countryside, of course. A troop of acrobats, tumblers, and players . . . hmmm, they could be handy. And the people of the local village.'**

"'**No shipwrecked Skandians or reformed sorcerers?' Gilan teased him gently."**

"I'll let you know," Malcolm said, "that I was never a sorcerer to begin with!"

"Were you now?" Halt asked.

"Halt!" Pauline warned. Halt sighed.

"**Will snorted in derision. 'No. At least he's spared me that.'**

"**He trailed off, chewing on a fingernail as he mulled over the problem. Acrobats. They could be handy in getting to the top of the wall. He riffled through a few pages to find the diagram of the castle. Wall height was between three and four meters. A formidable barrier for a normal man. But a trained acrobat might . . ."**

Halt and Crowley smiled to themselves. Thinking about a problem that you didn't necessarily need to solve was a good trait for a Ranger.

"**He snapped himself out of it, slamming the pages shut once more. It wasn't his problem. The three boys had to find a way to solve it. All he had to do was assess the practicality of their solution.**

"'**Sounds like fun,' Gilan murmured. **

"**Will shook his head. 'I can't wait to see what they come up with.'**

"And that's it for chapter three!" Crowley finished.

"I'm still not in it!" Horace pouted.

The voice came from the ceiling, "Shut up, Horace. You aren't in it until chapter fifteen."

"What is wrong with the person who wrote this?!"

"Not as much as is wrong with you."

"Oh, now, that's just mean."

Halt sighed. "Who is up in the attic anyway?"

"You'll find out when I get fifty reviews!" the voice shouted. "And do you know what that means?"

"That you need more reviews?" Will asked.

"Well, yeah, but I was going to say that I'm really hungry right now. That works though!"

"I'm hungry too!" Gilan said. "Can we eat now?"

**I actually am really hungry. Pizza sounds good. . . . Actually, almost everything sounds good. Anyways, sorry for the late update. These take really long to write. Next chappie might be a little crappy because it's Halt doing serious stuff POV. I'll do an extra chappie about investigating the attic when I get fifty reviews if you guys want. Tell me what you think. Please review!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Thanks to Tachibana Natsu, AreiaCananaid, Savannah Silverstone, Guest Ranger Robbin, i'masian-aru, an anonymous Guest, Dash99, Guest Zoe, another anonymous Guest, Falcon97, and Qwerty124 for their reviews! And now to everyone who commented on Person of Interest: Oh my gosh! I love that show! Michael Emerson and Jim Caviezel are my favorite actors! Definition of epicness! Okay, I'm good. Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes. Also, even though he/she (dunno which) doesn't read this fic, I want to thank Dr Merlin for telling me about Scribd! It's soooo much easier to write this now! Thank you!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ranger's Apprentice.**

The group marched back into the large sitting room, carrying platters and plates of assorted foods. Horace was eating and walking at the same time.

"Horace!" Cassandra admonished. "Wait until we sit down to eat!"

"But it tastes so good!" he said around a mouthful of food.

Halt sighed. "You would think octopus tentacles and pig snout was delicious."

"That wasn't too bad, actually," Sean protested.

Everyone stared at him in disgust. "Whaaaaaaaat? I was trying to be polite!"

"Aaaannd, on that note, who's gonna read next?" Duncan interrupted.

Pauline reached for the book. "I'll do that."

"Why can't I?" Gilan whined.

"Because you're stuffing your face with food," Halt pointed out. "And who said you could have that many cookies?"

"Me. Why?"

"I wanted some!" Halt reached over and stole five cookies from his former apprentice.

Pauline snatched them from his hand. "What did I tell you, Halt? No cookies on a diet!"

Horace's eyes widened. "Halt's on a diet?!"

Halt sighed. "I'd tell you to never get married, but it's too late for that."

Pauline glowered at her husband. "We will talk later, now I want to read this book!

"**Halt lay unmoving in the gorse above the village of Selsey, his cloak concealing him from sight, his eyes moving constantly as he surveyed the scene below him. He had been observing the village for several days, unseen by any of its inhabitants, or by the new arrivals who had taken up residence on the shore."**

Halt grinned smugly. "I'm in the story before you, Horace!" he taunted.

Horace stuck up his nose. "That's because they're leaving the awesomer people for last."

The voice emanated from the ceiling, "Horace, if that was true, Ferris would be the first person to appear in this book."

Pauline sighed dramatically. "We won't even get that far if you people won't stop interrupting me!"

"Sorry, Pauline," Halt muttered.

"**Selsey was a small and humble fishing village. A dozen or so cottages were clustered at the northern end of the beach, at the foot of the steep hill. The beach itself was narrow - barely a hundred meters wide. It lay at the end of a shallow cove, where a roughly triangular bite was taken out of the rocky coastline.**

"**The hills on three sides slanted steeply down to the water and the narrow beach. They were high enough to protect the village and the bay from the wind and storms that could sweep along this coastline. The fourth side was open to the sea, but even on that side, Halt's keen eyes could make out the swirl of water that marked a bar just inside the mouth of the cove—a jumble of rocks below the water's surface that would break up the big waves as they tried to come pounding in, driven by a westerly wind."**

"Since when are Halt's eyes keen?" Crowley asked.

"You're one to talk, you old geezer!" Halt objected.

"I'm a geezer? Have you looked in a mirror recently?"

"Geezers are weaklings."

"Are you calling me weak?!"

"Yes."

"I'll have you know that I can lift a seventy-five pound weight, no problem."

"But can you string a bow with a ninety-five pound draw-weight?"

"Can you?"

"Yeah, but can you?"

Alyss rolled her eyes. "Will the two of you stop arguing?"

"No," they both said.

"Remember that talk we're going to have, Halt?" Pauline threatened.

The color drained from Halt's face. "Please continue, Pauline."

"**On the southern side of the cove, he could see a narrow section of calm, undisturbed water—deeper water that marked a passage through the bar. That would be the point where the handful of fishing boats pulled up on the beach would gain access to the open sea.**

"**He took in the condition of the cottages. They were small, but they were far from hovels. They were well built, freshly painted and comfortable looking.**

"**The boats were in similar condition. The masts and booms were recently varnished to protect them from the damage caused by the salt air and water. The sails were neatly furled along their booms. The rigging was taut and well maintained, and the hulls were all in good condition and had obviously been painted not too long ago."**

"Are they almost done describing this stupid village?" Horace asked, annoyed.

Pauline glared at him. "I can make it longer."

"I'm good!"

Pauline smiled.

"**So while the village might appear small and unimportant at first glance, a closer scrutiny told a different story. This was a well-ordered little community. And in a section of coast where there were few other sheltered spots like this, the fishermen would find ready markets for their catch in the neighboring villages. That meant it was a prosperous community—and probably had been for years on end.**

"**And that, of course, explained the presence of the Outsiders here. His eyes narrowed as the thought struck him. He'd been right to forgo the Gathering this year and track down the source of the vague rumors that had been coming in from the West Coast of Araluen."**

"Oh, come on!" Horace complained. "They're gonna describe the Outsiders now?" Everyone ignored him.

"**They were vague because this wild stretch of coastline was one of the few areas in the country that was under the jurisdiction of none of the fifty fiefs. It was a patch of land that had slipped through the cracks when the fief boundaries had been drawn up, many years ago. Possession of the area had been disputed, with a group of displaced Hibernians claiming it for their own. The Araluen King at the time took a quick look at the rugged, inhospitable coastal area and decided they were welcome to it. He had bigger problems on his mind as he tried to weld fifty recalcitrant, bickering barons into a cohesive governing structure for the country as a whole."**

"Oh, no, we have to go back to Selsey, don't we now?" Horace grumbled.

Cassandra sighed. "Eat this chicken leg and shut up," she commanded, handing him said chicken leg. He did as he was told.

"Wait!" Will said as he saw Pauline open her mouth to continue reading. "What does recalcitrant mean, Halt?"

Halt rolled his eyes. "Having an obstinately uncooperative attitude toward authority. Like you."

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do. Now, let Pauline read."

"**So this twenty-kilometer section of coastline was left to its own devices. Of course, had the king realized that he was ceding control of one of the best natural harbors within a hundred kilometers, he might have acted differently. But the existence of this little cove was a well-kept secret. So the little fishing settlement had prospered quietly over the years, beholden to no one and answerable to no king.**

"**Yet it lay close to the extreme western border of Redmont Fief, so in recent years Halt had taken to keeping an occasional eye on the area—unnoticed by the local inhabitants."**

Malcolm glanced at Halt reprovingly, "Isn't that a bit stalkerish?"

"Isn't stalkerish not a word?" Halt countered.

Malcolm ignored him and muttered, "Stalker. . . ."

Halt through a pie at Malcolm's face. "Shut up."

Gilan reached out and snatched the pie from the air. "Don't ruin perfectly good pie!"

"Peach pie isn't good pie."

Crowley's mouth dropped open. "Treason!"

"Treason? Against who?"

"Whom," Alyss corrected.

"Me," Duncan said.

"Your name's Whom?" Horace asked, aghast.

Pauline groaned. "No, Horace, it's not."

They then noticed that Sean was giving them an odd look. "Whaaaat?" they asked.

"You went from calling Halt a stalker to calling Duncan Whom. Wow," Sean replied.

Halt smiled. "Stay away from Rangers, Sean. We make people crazy."

"Moving on," Pauling said.

"**In the past few months he had heard rumors about a religious cult whose behavior sounded disturbingly familiar. People spoke of newcomers who would arrive in a village or hamlet with a simple message of friendship. They would bring toys for the children and small gifts for the leaders of the community.**

"**In return, they asked for nothing but a place to worship their benevolent and all-loving deity, the Golden God Alseiass. They made no attempt to convert the locals to their religion. Alseiass was a tolerant god who respected the rights of other gods to attract and hold their own adherents.**

"Am I pronouncing 'Alseiass' correctly?" Pauline asked.

Crowley shrugged. "I doubt anyone knows how to pronounce it correctly. Makes you wonder how they got so many converts. . . ."

"Because there are many idiots out there," Alyss said philosophically.

"If that's the case, why didn't Will and Horace become members of the cult?" Halt mused.

"Because we're smart!" Will said enthusiastically.

"Suuuuuuuurrrrreeeee," everyone muttered.

"**So the Outsiders, the name adopted by the followers of Alseiass, would live in harmony with the locals for several weeks.**

"**Then things would start to go wrong. Cattle would die mysteriously. Sheep and household animals would be found crippled. Crops and homes would be burned; wells and streams, contaminated. Armed brigands and bandits would appear in the area, attacking and robbing travelers and farmers in remote farms. As days passed, their attacks would become bolder and more vicious. A reign of terror would begin, and the villagers would go in fear of their lives. The village would find itself under siege, with nobody knowing where the next attack might fall."**

Cassandra's eyes widened. "That's awful!" Everyone nodded agreement.

"**Then the Outsiders would come forward with a solution. The outlaws surrounding the village were followers of the evil Balsennis—a dark god who hated Alseiass and all he stood for. The Outsiders had seen this before, they would claim. Balsennis in his jealousy would try to bring ruin to any community where Alseiass and his followers found happiness. But Alseiass was the stronger of the two, they said, and he could cast out the followers of his dark brother and make the village safe once more.**

"Oh, come on!" Pauline complained. "They can't come up with pronounceable names, can they?"

Sean sighed. "The leader of the cult has an even worse name."

"What is it?"

"Tennyson."

Pauline made a face. "That's horrible. Back to the book:

"**Of course, there was a price. To expel Balsennis, special prayers and invocations would be required. Alseiass could do it, but they would need to construct a special shrine and altar for the casting-out ceremonies. It would need to be of the purest materials: white marble, perfectly formed cedar without knots or kinks . . . and gold.**

"**Alseiass was the Golden God. He would draw strength from the precious metal; gold would give him the power he needed to win this contest against Balsennis."**

"Scam alert!" Crowley shouted.

"**Sooner or later, the villagers would agree. Faced with increasingly fierce attacks and disasters, they would delve into their savings and hidden assets to provide the gold that was needed. The longer they hesitated, the worse the attacks would become. At first, animals had been slaughtered; now people would become the targets. Leaders of the community would be found murdered in their beds. Once that happened, the villagers would hand over their treasures. The shrine would be built. The Outsiders would pray and chant and fast.**

"**And the attacks would begin to lessen. The 'accidents' would cease to happen. The outlaws would be seen less and less, and life would begin to return to normal.**

"**Until the day came when they had stripped the village bare and there was nothing more to plunder, and the Outsiders would disappear. The villagers would awaken to find them gone—taking with them the gold."**

"What did I tell you?" Crowley asked, shaking his head sadly.

"**The Outsiders would move on to another village, another community. And the same cycle would begin again.**

"**Halt had arrived in the latter part of the cycle, during which the Outsiders were praying desperately to protect the village from the onslaught of Balsennis. He had watched the chanting and mock fasting that was going on. He had also seen the secret supplies of food that the Outsiders kept hidden. The 'fasting' was as false as their religion, he thought grimly.**

"**And he had reconnoitered into the surrounding countryside and discovered the base where the Outsiders' accomplices were camped. These were the ones who carried out the dirty work—burning barns, mutilating animals, kidnapping and murdering local officials. The cult couldn't work without them, but they remained unseen by the villagers."**

"Of course," Malcolm said, "you can't exactly have a load of strange brigands walking around the town and expect the villagers not to suspect them for all therecent crimes."

"Of course," Halt said sarcastically. Malcolm glared at him.

"**It was a well-organized operation. He had seen it all many years before.**

"**He frowned as a figure emerged from the large pavilion that served as headquarters for the cultists. It was pitched on the edge of the beach, close to where the fishing boats were drawn up beyond the tide.**

"**The man was tall and heavily built. His black hair was long and parted in the middle to fall on either side of his face. From this distance, Halt couldn't make out his features, but he knew from previous observation that the man's face was heavily pockmarked. Apparently Alseiass hadn't protected him from that problem, Halt thought."**

All the women in the room made faces. "Boy, he sounds ugly," Alyss said.

"**He carried a staff that marked him as the leader of the group. It was a plain, untrimmed branch topped with a stone plaque that bore the Outsiders' symbol—a rune-inscribed ring with an embossed orb at its center, joined by a thin shaft of stone to another, smaller hemisphere outside the ring. As Halt watched, the elder strode purposefully toward the largest of the houses in the village.**

"'**Off to ask for more gold, are you?' Halt muttered. 'We'll see what we can do about that.'"**

"Whoa! Someone actually talked! It's a miracle! I can't believe it!" Duncan shouted sarcastically.

"Yeah! I can't believe it either! Who would've thunk?" Sean added.

"Me," Halt said authoritatively. "Would you let Pauline finish?"

"Thank you, Halt.

"**The leader of the Outsiders met with a group of the villagers—obviously the senior members of the community—and they began an animated conversation. The Outsiders' leader would be reluctantly informing them that more valuables would be required. Alseiass needed extra strength to defeat his old enemy, and only extra supplies of gold and jewelry would give it to him. It was a cunning ploy, Halt thought. By appearing reluctant to ask for more gold, and by not insisting when the village refused, the Outsiders deflected any charge that they were seeking the gold for themselves.**

"**Halt watched as the elder shrugged his shoulders theatrically, seeming to be convinced that no more wealth was forthcoming. He spread his hands in a gesture of friendship and understanding and turned sadly away from the villagers' delegation. If he held true to well-established Outsider methods, he was promising that he and his people would continue to do their utmost to help, fasting and praying unselfishly to protect the village and its inhabitants.**

"'**And tonight,' Halt muttered to himself, 'one of those houses will go up in flames.'**

"And that's it," Pauline finished.

Gilan eyed her. "Can I have my cookies back now?"

**I put a lot of dialogue in the beginning of this chapter and it was really random. . . . I don't know how that happened, but I hope you liked it any way! Please review!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Thanks to AreiaCananaid, Savannah Silverstone, Qwerty124, Guest Ranger Robbin, and Dr Merlin for their reviews! Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ranger's Apprentice.**

After Pauline gave Gilan his cookies back and Halt tried to steal them again, they were back on track. Pauline eyed the group around her and asked, "Who wants to read next?"

"I do!" Gilan shouted through a mouthful of sugar cookie.

"Finish that cookie first."

"But I have another cookie!"

Halt snatched it away and bit into it before Pauline could stop him. "Problem solved."

Pauline sighed, glared at her husband, and handed Gilan the book.

"**The three apprentices sat in a quiet glade, their assignment folders and pages of notes on their knees, watching Will expectantly."**

Halt smiled. This one wasn't about him.

"'**Very well,' he began. He was a little disconcerted by the three unwavering gazes that were trained on him. He realized the boys probably assumed that he had already come up with the perfect solution to the problem they'd been set. But that wasn't his role.**

"'**You've all read the assignment?'**

"**Three heads nodded.**

"'**You understand it fully?'**

"**Again, three heads, three nods."**

"Too bad Will wasn't that quiet when he was my apprentice," Halt said, smirking. His comment was greeted by a hearty shove from Will.

"I wasn't that bad, Halt!"

Halt turned to Crowley. "Was he that bad?"

Crowley nodded dutifully. "Yep."

"'**So who wants to have first crack at it?'**

"**There was a moment's hesitation, then Nick's hand shot up. Will nodded to himself. He'd known Nick would be first. 'Very well, Nick, let's hear your thoughts,' he said, motioning for the young apprentice to proceed."**

"What is it with all this 'very well' stuff?" Duncan asked.

"Apparently, it's Will's new favorite phrase," Halt said drily.

"No, it's not!" Will protested.

"True. Your newest favorite phrase is 'No, it's not'."

"**Nick cleared his throat several times. He shuffled his pages of notes then, head down, he began to read in a breakneck gabble of words.**

"Um, Halt?" Gilan asked as he glanced ahead.

"Yes?"

"How do you pronounce this?"

"Pronounce what?" Gilan showed Halt the page. Halt sighed. "Lemme do it.

"'**Verywelltheproblemfacingusisthatwedon'thavesuffici entnumbersatourdisposaltoeffectively-mountastandar dsiegeoperationsowehaveto—'**

"There." Halt handed Gilan the book back and Gilan continued reading:

"'**Whoa!' Will interrupted him, and Nick looked up nervously, sensing that he'd done something wrong.**

"'**Slow down!' Will told him. 'Try to bring it down to a gallop, all right?'**

"**He saw the boy's crestfallen face, realized that he was worried he'd be marked down for the mistake. Nick was an overachiever, Will thought to himself. His gabbled words reflected the same intensity that had caused him to hold the bow in such a viselike grip.**

"Oh, Halt, read this paragraph too." Gilan handed the book back.

"'**Just relax, Nick,' he said in a more encouraging tone. 'Let's say you were called upon to submit a plan like this to King Duncan.' He paused and saw the boy's eyes widen at the enormity of the thought. He added, gently, 'It's not impossible, you know. That's what Rangers do from time to time. But you'd hardly want to go dashing into Castle Araluen's throne room and gabble out, "HulloKingDuncanletmerunthroughafewidesaforyouhere andyoucantellmewhatyouthinkofthemall-right?"'He managed a pretty good impersonation of Nick's breathless, rattling delivery, and the other two boys laughed. Nick, after an uncertain moment, joined in as well."**

Duncan smirked. "That would be hilarious! I'd pay money to see that."

Halt grinned. "You don't have to. Just make Will talk really fast and we've got a show."

Will shook his head. "Nuh-uh, that's George."

Alyss nodded. "I sometimes wish he still stuttered."

Jenny, Horace, and Will nodded in agreement. Halt made a mental note to tell George about this.

"'**No, you wouldn't.' Will answered his own question. 'When you outline a plan, you need to speak clearly and precisely, to make sure the people you're talking to have the full picture. You have to have your own thoughts organized and present them in a logical sequence. Now, take a deep breath. . . .'"**

"**Nick did so.**

"'**And start again. Slowly.'"**

"We should tell George that," Horace muttered.

"'**Very well,' said Nick. 'The problem facing us is that we don't have sufficient numbers at our disposal to effectively mount a standard siege operation. So we have to find a way to (a) recruit troops and (b) offset the inferiority in numbers, compared to the garrison.'"**

"There it is again!" Duncan shouted.

Cassandra sighed and handed her dad a donut. "Eat." He did so. She smiled. "I love bribing men with food."

"**He looked up expectantly. Will nodded.**

"'**So far so good. And your solution?'**

"'**I propose to recruit a ship's crew of thirty-five Skandian sea wolves to act as an attacking army, under the command of the mounted knight already at my disposal. The Skandians' prowess in battle would more than compensate for—'"**

"Hold up!" Sean shouted. "What Skandians?"

"The worst kind: imaginary. . . ." Halt said with a mock mystical look on his face.

Sean glared at him. "You had too much caffeine."

Will abruptly stood up on his chair and started to yodel, "Yodel-le-he-hoooo!"

Everyone stared at him dubiously. "I take it back," Sean croaked.

Halt smiled. "Thank you." Will stopped yodeling and sat back down.

"**But once again, Will had his hands up in the air, waving them in an effort to stem the flow of words.**

"'**Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!' he cried. 'Back up the oxcart a little! Skandians? Where did these Skandians come from?'**

"**Nick looked at him, a little puzzled by the question.**

"'**Well . . . Skandia, presumably,' he replied. Will noticed that the other two boys were nodding agreement, frowning slightly at Will's interruption."**

Pauline made an unladylike snort. "Oh my gosh! Skandia, presumably? Oh, lol."

Halt eyed his wife suspiciously, "Lol?"

Gilan stared at him in shock. "Have you never texted anyone?"

"No, I never needed too."

"Even Tennyson has texted!"

Halt sighed and said, "BRB, Gilan." Halt stood up, walked to an unoccupied couch pushed in a corner, grabbed a hefty pillow off of it, walked back over to Gilan, and smacked him with it. "ROFL."

Gilan spluttered. Jenny looked at Pauline and held up her ladle. "You can use this anytime you want, Pauline."

Pauline glanced at her husband, who was arm-wrestling King Duncan. "You'd never get it back."

Malcolm sighed. "Can we continue?"

Gilan shrugged. "Okay.

"'**No, no, no,' he began, then a thought struck him and he frowned at the other two boys."**

"'**Did you all decide that you'd recruit a force of Skandians?' he asked, and Liam and Stuart nodded wordlessly.**

"'**Well, what made you think you could do that?' he asked. The boys looked at one another, then Liam answered.**

"'**That's what you did.' His tone said that the answer seemed self-evident.**

"**Will made a helpless gesture with his hands.**

"'**But I knew the Skandians,' he said. 'They were friends of mine.'"**

Halt sighed. "I can't imagine why they became your friends."

"That's mean, Halt!" Will shouted. Halt just laughed evilly.

"**Liam shrugged. 'Well, yes. But I could get to know them too. I'm told I'm quite a personable type of fellow. I'm sure I could make them my friends.'**

"**Stuart and Nick nodded their support. Will pointed to the Assets and Resources list.**

"'**But there aren't any Skandians here!' he said. 'They don't exist! So what made you think you could just . . . produce them out of thin air?'"**

Halt nodded philosophically. "The imaginary ones are the worst. So violent too."

Duncan leaned over to Pauline and whispered, "What did you put in his coffee?"

"Nothing," Pauline whispered back. "Maybe too much honey."

"Could be. . . ."

"**Again, the boys exchanged glances. This time it was Stuart who spoke.**

"'**The exercise says we're to use our initiative and imagination. . . .'**

"**Will made a gesture for him to continue.**

"'**So we used our initiative to imagine that there were Skandians in the area.'**

"'**And that we were their friends,' Liam put in."**

Alyss face-palmed. "Sixteen year old guys are idiots. . . ."

"Not all of them," all the guys in the room protested.

"Uh-huh, sure," all the women in the room muttered.

"**Will stood abruptly. For the first time, he had an inkling of what Halt might have gone through in the first year of Will's own apprenticeship. To the young boys, it seemed so logical."**

"I believe Will was worse than Gilan," Halt mused to Will's displeasure.

"'**But you can't do that!' he exclaimed. Then, seeing their worried faces, he calmed down a little, forcing himself to explain. 'The Assets and Resources list tells you what people you can use. You can't just invent others to suit your purposes.'**

"**He looked around the semicircle of crestfallen faces.**

"'**I mean, if you could do that, why not just imagine a dozen or so gigantic trolls who could go galumphing in and smash the walls down for you?'**

"Yeah, that's what I want to know!" Gilan said, frowning.

"Along with why they can't make quadruple chocolate chip cookies," Halt said sarcastically.

"Exactly! Anyway, back to the book:

"**Nick, Liam, and Stuart all nodded dutifully, and for one awful moment he thought they might be taking him seriously.**

"'**I'm joking,' he said, and they nodded again. He sighed and sat down. They knew they were going to have to go back to the beginning, and he could see their disappointment. While he didn't intend to do the assignment for them, he decided there was no harm in pointing them in the right direction.**

"'**All right, first of all, let's look at what you've got. Go through the resources for me.'**

"'**We've got an acrobat troop,' said Liam."**

Halt snickered. "Baron Arald. . . ."

Duncan shook his head sadly. "Too bad he isn't here. . . ."

"**Will looked quickly at him. 'Can you think of anything they could be used for?'**

"**Liam pursed his lips.**

"'**They could entertain the troops and raise morale,' said Nick.**

Horace sighed. "Why does it always have to be acrobats? Why can't we have Eminem or something?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Because we aren't going to spend all that money to give all you soldiers unhealthy chocolate candy!"

All the younger people in the room groaned at Crowley's idiotic statement.

"'**If we had any troops,' Stuart put in.**

"'**When we've got troops!' Liam interrupted Stuart with more than a hint of anger.**

"**Will thought it was best to intervene before they started squabbling. He threw them a broad hint.**

"'**What's stopping you getting into the castle? What's a castle's principal line of defense?' he asked. The boys considered the question, then Stuart answered, in a tone that indicated the answer was an obvious one.**

"'**The walls, of course.'"**

"Of course," Jenny muttered. She was getting a little restless.

"'**That's right. High walls. Four meters high.' Will paused, looking from one face to another. 'Can you see any connection between high walls and acrobats?'**

"**Suddenly light dawned in the three faces, in Nick's a fraction of a second before the other two.**

"'**They could scale the walls,' he said.**

"**Will pointed a forefinger at him. 'Exactly. But you'll still need troops. Where have the original garrison gone?'**

"To the bathroom," Will said absently as he continued to juggle three red plastic balls. Halt reached out and batted at one of the balls. It fell to the ground, and Will threw the remaining two into the air. "Halt!"

"Yes, Will?" he answered innocently.

"Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

Will thought for a second, then shrugged. "I dunno."

"'**They're scattered all over the fief, back to their farms and hamlets.' It was Liam this time. He frowned, taking it one step further. 'We'll need someone to move around from place to place, recruiting them—'**

"'**But you don't want the enemy to notice,' Will put in quickly, hoping one of them would get the message.**

"'**The jongleur!' Stuart exclaimed triumphantly. 'Nobody will take any notice of him moving around the countryside!'**

"**Will sat back, smiling at them. 'Now you're beginning to think!' he said. 'Work together on this and come back this afternoon with your ideas.'"**

"If only they kept thinking," Crowley sighed. Halt nodded sadly.

"**The three boys exchanged grins. They were eager now to progress to the next stage of the plan. They stood up as Will motioned for them to go, but he stopped them with one more thought.**

"'**Another thing: the village. How many people in it?'**

"**Nick answered immediately, without needing to refer to his notes.**

"'**Two hundred,' he said, wondering what Will was getting at. 'But there are only a few soldiers among them. Most are farmers and field workers.'**

"'**I know that,' Will said. 'But think about what the law says about any village with more than one hundred residents.'"**

"How much longer is this chapter?" Jenny whined.

"Um, like another page," Gilan answered.

"Plus all the times you interrupt," Halt said severely.

"FINE," Jenny growled.

"**The law required that any village with a population of more than one hundred had the responsibility of training its young men as archers. That was how Araluen maintained a large force of trained archers, ready to be called up into the army if needed. He could see the boys hadn't made that step so far. But he decided he'd given them enough help for one day.**

"'**Think about it,' he said, making a shooing motion for them to leave. He listened to their excited, chattering voices as they faded away and leaned back against the trunk of a large tree behind him. He was exhausted."**

"Usually what happens when you deal with apprentices," Halt reflected.

"'**Nice work,' said Crowley, from a few meters behind him. Will, startled, sat up suddenly.**

"'**Don't do that, Crowley!' he said. 'You frightened the wits out of me!'"**

Halt chuckled and high-fived Crowley.

"**The Commandant chuckled as he stepped into the glade and sat on a large log beside Will.**

"'**You handled that well. Teaching isn't easy. You've got to know how much to prod them in the right direction and when to leave them to their own devices. You'll be a good teacher when you get your own apprentice.'**

"**Will looked at him, slightly horrified by the prospect. There was the responsibility, not to mention the constant distraction of having a young person at his heels, asking questions, interrupting, racing off at tangents before thinking through a problem . . . ."**

Halt and Crowley nodded at every point.

"**He stopped as he realized he was describing his own behavior as an apprentice. Once more, he felt a sudden twinge of sympathy for Halt."**

"You should! I had to train two apprentices! Really immature apprentices!"

Pauline handed Halt a piece of cake. "Eat." Halt grabbed a fork and dug in. Pauline winked at Cassandra.

"'**Let's not do that for a while yet,' he said, and Crowley smiled.**

"'**No. Not just yet. I have other plans for you.'**

"MWAHAHAHA!" Gilan shouted. "Yeah, chapter's over."

"Finally!" Jenny shouted. She got up. "Now I can go whack Master Rollin over the head with my ladle! The frosting on that cake needed a teaspoon more of sugar!" She left.

Halt smirked. "And I need your opinions on my act for my drama teacher!"

"Your act?" Sean asked quizzically.

"When I was talking about imaginary Skandians."

"Oh, we thought you'd put too much honey in your coffee!" Duncan exclaimed. Halt banged his head on an end table.

**Um, yes, Halt and Jenny were acting strange. It just happened that way. Anyways, please review!**


	7. Chapter 6

**Thanks to Dr Merlin, AreiaCananaid, Savannah Silverstone, Guest Ranger Robbin (sorry, I just really like writing crackfics), Guest Juminako, and Dash99 for their reviews! Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes. Um, I just realized that I randomly added Jenny in last chapter. I mean, she just **_**appeared**_**. No entrance or anything. It was the voice from the ceiling! Yeah. . . . **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ranger's Apprentice or Jeopardy.**

Jenny soon came back with a victorious smile on her face. Duncan glared at her. "I hope you didn't give my cook a concussion."

Jenny smirked. "He deserved it after that frosting," she said maniacally.

Halt rolled his eyes. "Who's going to read next?"

Sean's hand shot up. "I will!"

Halt snatched the book from Gilan and handed it to Sean.

"**It was after midnight. Selsey was dark and silent as its inhabitants slept. There was no watchman. In this remote, little-known village there had never been a need for one."**

"Oh, come on!" Horace complained. "We have to go back to Halt?!"

"Yes, don't complain," Halt said.

"I wasn't!"

"You were."

"**But there was a need tonight, just as Halt had expected.**

"**He was crouched behind one of the fishing boats drawn up on the sand, clear of the high-water mark. His first thought had been that the Outsiders would strike at one of the houses.**

"Ooooh, Horace," Cassandra said. "Maybe there will be actual action in this one!"

Halt glared at her. "Are you saying that my last chapter was boring?!"

"Yep."

"Good. It was."

"**Then he'd realized there was a much better target for them. The fishing boats. The source of the village's wealth. If a house were burned, the inhabitants could live under canvas while they rebuilt. Not the most comfortable situation, but life could continue.**

"**If the boats were destroyed, there would be no fishing, no income, while new boats were built."**

"And these Outsider people are going to destroy the boats?" Pauline gasped.

"Not while I'm there. . . ." Halt said in a (sorta) mysterious voice.

"**It would be in keeping with the Outsiders' ruthlessness to attack the boats, he had decided, and now his theory was proving correct. Half a dozen shadowy figures stole from the trees fringing the beach and moved furtively across the sand towards the fishing boats.**

"**Four of the men stopped by a pile of fishing nets and equipment ten meters away. The other two continued, heading for the boat next to the one Halt was crouched behind. He peered around the stern as they knelt in the sand, only a few meters away—close enough for him to hear their whispered conversation."**

"Eavesdropping is rude, Halt!" Will whined loudly.

"And so is interrupting," Sean said smoothly.

"Oh, point taken, Sean," Will said apologetically.

"'**How many will we do?' asked one.**

"'**Farrell says two should be enough to teach them a lesson.' Farrell was the black-haired man Halt had observed earlier in the day, the leader of this small band of Outsiders. 'I'll do this one. You take care of the one behind me.' The speaker jerked his head toward the boat where Halt was concealed. His companion nodded and began to crawl on hands and knees towards the bow of the boat, staying low to remain out of sight."**

Alyss gasped. "Is this the part where you're dying, Halt?" she asked.

Halt scowled at her. "You sound too happy about that. No, and I thought we said that was in the next book."

"Wait!" Malcolm interrupted. "If you are not dying in this one, why am I here?"

The voice came from the ceiling, "Do not question what I do!"

"Why?" Duncan asked.

"How am I supposed to answer if I don't know the answer?"

"You could always say 'Because I said so'."

"Yeah, but that's too _normal_."

"Are you calling yourself weird?"

"Pretty much."

"Moving on," Sean said hastily.

"**Quickly Halt drew back and moved away from the stern, angling out toward the third boat in line so that he would be behind the saboteur when the man turned his attention to his task. The beach was littered with large patches of seaweed and driftwood, tossed onto the shore by the wind and tide. As he heard the man rounding the bow, Halt dropped to the sand, covered by his cloak. If the man noticed anything, he would take the motionless Ranger for yet another clump of debris. As the old Ranger adage went, **_**If a person doesn't expect to see someone, odds are he won't**_**."**

"Uhh, guys, what are you doing here?" Crowley asked.

Rodney and Baron Arald stopped mid-step. "Well," Rodney said, "if a person doesn't expect to see someone, odds are he won't."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You didn't expect to see us, did you?" Arald asked.

"No. . . ."

"Then why did you see us?"

"Because you guys are noisier than Skandians!" Halt said.

"That doesn't really explain why you're here though," Pauline said.

Again the voice came, "I needed to bring Rodney into the story before chapter fourteen."

"So you brought him in during chapter six?"

"Exactly! Now get back to the book."

Rodney and Arald sat down, and Sean continued:

"**Halt heard the scrape of flint on steel and raised his eyes a fraction. The man was hunkered behind the boat, his back to Halt. As the Ranger watched, he heard another scrape and saw the brief blue flash of light from the flint.**

"**On elbows and knees, he slithered forward like a giant, silent snake, rising to a crouch as he reached the unsuspecting man."**

Cassandra glanced at Halt. "I don't think he's skinny enough to be a snake," she mused.

Halt looked at her, aghast. "Are you calling me fat?!"

"No, no, of course not, Halt!" she said hurriedly.

"**The first moment the raider knew he wasn't alone was when an iron bar of an arm clamped across his throat while a powerful hand forced his head forward to complete the choke hold. He managed one small gasp of surprise before his air supply was cut off."**

"Would a fat dude's arm be described as an iron bar?" Halt asked smugly.

Pauline patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. "No one said you were fat, dear."

"'**What's wrong?' The whispered call came from the other boat. Halt, continuing to apply the choke hold on the rapidly weakening man, replied in a similar whisper.**

"'**Nothing. Dropped the flint.'"**

"Liar!" Will yelled.

Halt glared at him. "He would've known where I was if I hadn't!" he protested.

"Fine."

"**He saw the reflection of another flint striking steel from the other boat as he heard the angry whispered reply.**

"'**Well, shut up and get on with it.'"**

Gilan gasped. Halt turned his glare to him. "What?"

"Someone told you to shut up!"

"He didn't know it was me. Now, shut up."

"**The choke hold had taken full effect now, and the man he had surprised slumped unconscious. Halt laid him down in the sand. There had been no further sound of flint striking steel from the far side of the boat, which meant the first raider had succeeded in getting a flame lit. There wasn't any time to waste. The sun-dried timbers of the boat, coated with varnish and paint, and the heavily tarred rigging would burn quickly. The fastest way to reach the man was over the boat between them. Halt crept over the bulwark, crossed to the far side and rolled over onto the sand."**

Crowley grinned and said, "And rolled on and on and—"

Crowley was promptly tackled to the ground by Halt. "TAKE THAT BACK!" Halt shouted, throwing several punches.

Crowley quickly deflected and shouted, "NEVER!"

Duncan sighed. "If you guys want to fight, go to a different room!"

Crowley and Halt stood up, grabbed each other by their ears, and pulled each other out of the room.

Duncan shook his head. "What are my Rangers coming to?"

Will glanced at him. "Do you really want to know?"

"No."

"**As he came to his feet, he saw the tiny glow of a flame in the tinder held by the man. The raider was looking at the flame as he heard a slight noise behind him. He glanced up, his eyes dazzled by the tiny patch of flame, and saw only a dark figure a few meters away. Logically enough, he assumed it was his companion.**

"'**What are you doing? Have you finished?'"**

Will smirked. "He hasn't finished rolling. . . ."

"I HEARD THAT!" Halt yelled. Then, "OWWW! THAT'S CHEATING, CROWLEY!"

"**The time for concealment was over, Halt thought. In his normal voice, he replied, 'Not quite.'**

"**Too late, the other man realized this was a stranger. He rose from his crouch. But as he did, Halt slapped the burning pile of tinder out of his hand, scattering it onto the sand. Then he followed through with his other hand, his left, in a hooking palm strike that had all the power of his twisting body and shoulder behind it.**

"**The heel of his hand slammed into the man's chin, snapping his head back and sending him crashing into the hull of the boat with a cry of pain. As the man slid to the sand, half-conscious, Halt yelled at the top of his lungs."**

"Ooooh," Cassandra said, "awesome!"

Jenny cringed. "What's awesome?"

"The fight."

"Um, okay. . . ."

"'**Fire! Fire in the boats! Fire!'"**

"Where?!" Gilan shouted. "Where is the fire?!"

Everyone in the room face-palmed. "There isn't a fire, Gilan. . . ." Pauline groaned.

"**He heard a chorus of startled exclamations from the other four raiders as they tried to figure out what had happened. There was no plan to start yelling once the fires were lit. Yet as far as they knew, only their two companions were at the boats.**

"'**Fire!' Halt yelled again. 'Get to the boats! Fire!'"**

"Then why does he keep saying 'fire' if there is no fire?" Gilan cried. They ignored him.

"**His voice was startlingly loud in the peaceful night, and already there were lights showing in the houses of the village. The four men realized now that things had gone seriously wrong and they rose, running towards the boats. Halt broke from cover, angling up the beach and away from them. Instinctively, they turned to pursue him, which was what he'd intended. He didn't want them trying to finish the job of setting fire to the boats.**

"'**Get him!' he heard someone yelling, and the soft thud of feet in the sand was close behind him."**

Will reached over to a radio and pushed a button. That bumbumbumbum music they play in all the exciting parts of a movie started playing. Will hummed along.

"**But now there were other voices shouting in the distance as the villagers awoke and raised the alarm, and he heard the running feet behind him hesitate.**

"'**Let him go! Get Morris and Scarr and let's get out of here!' he heard the same voice yell. Morris and Scarr would be the two who had tried to burn the boats, and the raiders wouldn't want to leave them for the villagers to question. The running feet behind him turned away, heading back to the boats. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder and saw the four men heading back to drag their companions clear. Several hundred meters further down the beach, lanterns indicated the villagers heading for the boats, although their initial sense of urgency was gone as they could see no sign of fire at the boats."**

Will stopped the bumbumbumbum music. He switched to Jeopardy music. "Da da da da-duhda duh duh da da da-duhdada."

"**The raiding party would have time to get away, he thought. But there was little he could do about that now. The large pavilion where the Outsiders were camped was slowly coming to life as well. Doubtless they'd been awake all along, watching for their accomplices to carry out their plan. Now, of course, they could hardly pretend to have slept through the racket.**

"Will, would you please stop the Jeopardy music?" Alyss asked. Will stopped it.

"**Halt slowed his pace to a jog as he reached the trees at the edge of the beach. He stopped inside the shadows they cast and took several deep breaths. Like all Rangers, he was in excellent physical condition. But it never hurt to rest when you had the chance, and he could feel the adrenaline surging through his system, making his breath come faster and his heart beat more rapidly."**

"Notice the 'he was in excellent physical condition'!" Halt shouted.

"**Calm down, he told his racing body, and he felt his pulse begin to slow to a more normal rate."**

Will gasped. "Was Halt afraid?"

The voice from the ceiling groaned. "Did we go over this already?"

"No, that was epicness," Pauline said.

"Ohhhh, well only real men are afraid. If you're never afraid, you're either invincible or an idiot. I don't think Halt is either of those."

"Wow, that's wise. . . ." Rodney murmured.

"I'd like to think so. . . ."

"**All in all, it had been a successful night, he thought. He would have preferred it if one or two of the raiders had been left behind for the villagers to question. But at least he'd thwarted their plan to burn the boats.**

"**And he would have thrown a large doubt into their minds as they tried to work out what had gone wrong with their plan and who had interfered."**

"Yeah! Team Halt!" the voice yelled. Everyone ignored it.

"**He smiled grimly to himself. He liked the idea that the Outsiders might have something to worry about. Perhaps it was that small satisfaction that took the edge off his natural sense of caution. As he turned to head for the spot where he had left Abelard, he blundered into a man who stepped from behind a tree."**

Will turned on the bumbumbumbum music again.

"'**Who the blazes are you?' the man demanded. He had a heavy spiked club in his hand and he swung it up now, preparing for a crushing blow onto this stranger's head."**

"That's profanity!" Gilan shouted. Lots of shushing noises followed.

"**The immediate act of aggression told Halt that this was another of the Outsiders' gang. Recovering quickly from his shock, he flat-kicked sideways at the inside of the man's left knee. The leg buckled and the man collapsed with a cry of pain, holding his injured knee and yelling.**

"'**Help! Help! Over here!'**

"**Halt heard answering cries and the sound of bodies running through the trees and bushes. Moving like a wraith, he sped away. He had to reach Abelard before the pursuers caught up with him.**

"And that's it," Sean said.

"Cliffhanger!" the voice shouted.

Crowley and Halt stumbled back into the room. "We need to come up with a name for that voice," Crowley said.

"How about Cookies?" Gilan asked.

"NO!" everyone shouted.

**No calling me Cookies. . . . They will decide on a name next chappie. Anyway, that was another weird chapter but when aren't my chapters weird? Please review!**


	8. Bonus Chapter!

**Thanks to Caithlinn13, Dr Merlin, AreiaCananaid, Guest Juminako, Guest Ranger Robbin, Dash99, Savannah Silverstone, Guest anya132, and Unfocused and Confused for their reviews! So, technically, I have 48 reviews, but it's close enough. So thanks so much to everyone who has ever reviewed! Bonus chappie! Enjoy. . . . **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ranger's Apprentice.**

Halt frowned slightly. "We really need a name for the girl in the attic. . . ."

"Why don't we just go up there and ask her?" Duncan suggested.

"'Cause I like Cookies!" Gilan shouted.

"And the rest of us don't," Sean said drily.

Pauline glanced around her. "So are we going or not?"

They nodded and stood up. Duncan led the way out of the room.

"So, who exactly is this voice?" Arald asked.

Crowley shrugged. "That's what we're going to find out."

"Oh, makes sense," Arald muttered.

The group paraded up a stairway while people in the castle hastily bowed as their king and the king of another country passed by. They reached a landing and Duncan pointed to a door. "Through there."

But before they could take a step, Lord Anthony hurried up to them. "My lord, what are you doing in the attics?!"

"Is it against the law to be in the attic? And who calls them 'attics' anyway?" Duncan asked.

"Um, no, my lord," Anthony said in a shocked tone of voice. He refrained from answering the second question.

"Then why did you ask me why I'm here?"

"Because it isn't normal for you and thirteen other people, which includes another king and four Rangers, to parade up to the attics!"

"It's also not normal to say 'attics'."

Anthony ignored this comment. "What are you _doing_ in the attics?"

Duncan sighed at the use of the word 'attics' but didn't say anything about it. "There's a person in the attic, and we want to know who it is."

Anthony started to question his king's sanity. "Umm, I'll leave you to it then. . . ."

Anthony left hurriedly and they started toward the door.

Duncan knocked hesitantly. The voice came through the door. "You might as well come in. I don't want to be called cookies."

Duncan glanced at the faces behind him. He shrugged and pushed the door open. A brown-haired girl sat in an armchair and glanced from the book she was reading up to them. "Hi," she said nonchalantly.

"Uhh, hi?" Duncan had expected someone . . . older. The girl couldn't be more than fourteen.

"So, you wanted to know my name, right?"

Halt decided to take control of the situation. "That's right."

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

"'Cause people on the internet will be reading this, and, dunno 'bout you, but I don't wanna be stalked."

"I'm sure there are millions of people out there with the same first name as you," Halt said.

"Amazing what people can do with a little bit of information," she said. "Anyway, you can call me Xayhra or Xayh."

"But that's not your real name. . . ." Sean said.

Xayh looked at him, a sarcastic light in her eyes. "Obviously. Who names their kid that?"

"Wait! I have a question!" Will shouted.

"When don't you?" Xayh and Halt asked in unison. Xayh looked ridiculously pleased, but Halt looked decidedly less so.

"Creepy. . . ." Gilan murmured.

"Anyway," Will said, plowing ahead, "how do you spell your name?"

"X-a-y-h-r-a."

"I thought it was Z-a-y-r-u-h!"

"Just because it's spelled differently doesn't mean it's not pronounced that way. Take Sean's name for example. You'd think it was spelled S-h-a-w-n, but it's spelled S-e-a-n. I actually read a whole book once and thought the character's name was pronounced 'seen'. . . ."

Halt sighed. "Well, thank you for that very important lesson on the English language," he said sarcastically. "Anyway, now that we know your name, we're going to go."

"Wait," Cassandra said, "aren't you the one that sent us the book?"

"Yep, why?"

"Why did you send it to us?"

"I wanted you to read it."

"Why?"

"I thought it would be interesting."

"Okay."

"Now, on you go."

The group looked slightly bewildered, but trundled down the stairs nevertheless. "I didn't understand half of what she said. . . ." Gilan said.

Halt shook his head. "For once, neither did we."

**Weird chapter. . . . And now you know how to pronounce my penname. Whoopee-zip. Anyway, I really just wanted to write crack more than anything. Oh well, please review!**


	9. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the late update! Thanks to Caithlinn13, Dr Merlin, Guest Ranger Robbin, AreiaCananaid, Qwerty124, Savannah Silverstone, Falcon97,** **Guest Gravity88, and Dash99 for their reviews! Back to normal chapters now.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ranger's Apprentice.**

After they returned to the sitting room and everyone was sitting, Duncan asked, "So, who wants to read next?"

"Well, seeing as the book is about me, I will," Will said.

"**The Gathering was coming to a close. The two final-year apprentices were being given the usual initiation into the ranks. Will grinned as he watched, feeling Gilan's elbow dig into his ribs. Not too long ago, he had been in a similar position, feeling dumbfounded as Crowley bumbled and mumbled and hurled bits of paper around, making light of the whole process."**

The Rangers grinned. Malcolm eyed them. "What are you guys smiling about?" he asked.

"This is a graduation!" Crowley said. Malcolm frowned but decided it was better to just listen.

"**He watched the two new Rangers as they mirrored his own bemusement. After five years' hard work and faithful application, a graduating apprentice expected some kind of ceremony. Something to mark what was undoubtedly the most important day of his life to date. And so the Ranger Corps, in its own unique style, went out of its way to avoid any such thing. Because, as Will realized now, graduation wasn't an end. It was the beginning of a much larger and more important phase of life."**

Everyone in the room who had ever graduated from anything nodded in appreciation of the line.

"**Ostensibly, only Crowley, the two apprentices, and their mentors were present. But in fact, they were surrounded by a group of silent, unseen spectators as the rest of the Rangers stood concealed among the trees, ready to leap out with their cries of congratulation and welcome, just as they did at every induction."**

Will looked up from the book. "Halt?"

Halt sighed loudly. "Yeeesss?"

"What's 'ostensibly' mean?"

Baron Arald nodded. "I was actually wondering what that meant too."

Halt eyed the baron. "What is this world coming to?" he muttered. Then in a louder voice, "Apparently, evidently, or conspicuously."

"Ohhh," the baron and Will said.

"**The boys' parents and several family members had been admitted to the area to see their sons graduate, traveling the last ten kilometers of the trip blindfolded, as the location of the Gathering Ground was a closely guarded secret. They too watched with anticipation and amusement from the shadow of the trees.**

Crowley smirked. "It's such a closely guarded secret that Will doesn't know how to get there."

Will glared at him. "I can too!"

"Oh?" Sean asked. "And where is it?"

"Well, you—" Halt quickly clamped a hand around Will's mouth.

"Do you understand the word 'secret'?" he asked, incredulous.

Will nodded several times. "Uh-huh."

Halt let go. "Then what does it mean?"

"Not to tell Alyss what happened to the chocolate chip cookies," responded Will.

Alyss' mouth dropped open. "You ate all my cookies?!"

"Not me!" Will protested. "It was—"

This time Horace clamped his hand over Will's mouth. "What happened to secret?" he hissed.

Cassandra sighed. "Horace, it isn't polite to eat all someone's cookies."

Jenny glanced at her friend. "Since when do you care about manners?"

"Well, if I'm ever going to be a mother—"

"You're not saying you're pregnant, are you?" Horace asked, alarmed.

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "No, you don't even know what—"

"Moving on!" Xayh's voice broke in hastily.

"**Only the younger apprentices were absent. It was a strict rule that nobody would ever tell an apprentice what lay in store for him at his graduation, and so three of the Corps' older Rangers had taken the first- and third-year apprentices (there were no second- or fourth-year trainees this Gathering) to a site well away from the Gathering Ground for a final series of lectures. They would return in time for the feast that followed the inductions.**

"**Crowley was coming to the end of his usual, masterful performance."**

"Oh, yeah!" Crowley shouted, punching the air. "_Masterful_!"

Halt glared at him. "There's nothing 'masterful' about you right now."

Crowley quieted down and motioned for Will to continue.

"'**So,' he said, eyes down and reading at breakneck pace as if he wanted to get through the entire matter as quickly as possible, 'you, Clarke of Caraway Fief, and you, Skinner of wherever it is you come from . . . yes . . . hang on a minute, where is it . . . Martinsyde Fief, of course . . . have completed all aspects of your training and are ready to be inducted as full members of the Ranger Corps. So I hereby induct you, by the authority granted to me as Commandant of the Ranger Corps and blah blah blah and so on and so on, and why don't you both shake hands and that should just about do it.'"**

"Ohhh," Malcolm muttered as he understood why the Rangers had been smirking.

"**He stood quickly, gathering his papers, and shook hands perfunctorily with the two startled graduates.**

"'**Bit like a wedding, really, isn't it?'"**

Pauline scowled at Crowley. "You didn't think mine and Halt's wedding was long and boring, did you?"

"No. I mean, Svengal showed up with the news that Erak had been kidnapped, which made the whole thing way more entertaining."

Will glanced at the Ranger and the courier and quickly started to read again before they could continue:

"**The two boys looked at one another, then at Crowley. He seemed to notice their bewilderment for the first time and hesitated, looking at them with a puzzled expression. 'Was there something else? Did I miss something?' He scratched his head and did a quick review of events. Will couldn't help grinning as enlightenment seemed to dawn on the Ranger Commandant.**

"'**Oh, of course! You'll want your silver geegaws, won't you?' Crowley beckoned to Skinner and Clarke's two mentors, who stepped forward with the tiny, glittering objects that every Ranger held dear. 'Well, might as well hand 'em over!' he said."**

Duncan snorted. "'Silver geegaws'? Seriously, Crowley?"

Crowley grinned. "Yep."

"**Then, as the two Rangers went to hang the silver oakleaf amulets round the necks of their former apprentices, the other Rangers stepped out into the clearing, throwing back the cloaks that had concealed them and surrounding the little group.**

"'**Congratulations!'"**

Gilan sighed. "Really, Will?"

"Whaaat?" Will asked.

"You just said that in the most bored voice ever!"

"What did you expect me to do? Throw the book in the air, dance in a circle around the room, and have Malcolm conjure confetti?!"

"I don't conjure confetti!" Malcolm protested.

"That's what I would have done!" Gilan said at the exact same time.

Rodney face-palmed. "Just continue reading, Will."

"**The massive shout went up through the trees, waking the birds who were roosting among the branches, frightening them into a chorus that echoed the roar of approval. As the Rangers surged forward to congratulate their newest members, pounding their backs, laughing and shaking their hands, Will saw the two surprised faces transformed as Clarke and Skinner realized they had been the victims of a giant practical joke. He also saw the quick tears of pleasure and pride that sprang to their eyes as they understood that now they were fully fledged members of this elite group. He felt his own eyes sting slightly in memory of his moment of pride, then he stepped forward to take his turn at welcoming the new members."**

Horace peered over Will's shoulder. "That is one long paragraph."

Will reached over and pushed Horace away. "Don't breathe over my shoulder!"

"What if I don't breathe?"

"Do it for three minutes straight and I'll pay for your funeral."

George burst through the doors, pulling a large chalkboard on wheels behind him. He stood at the head of the room, grabbed a stick of chalk in one hand and a pointer in the other, and said, "Actually, Will, that is not true. You see, when you black out, your body automatically begins to breathe again. Therefore, you cannot simply kill yourself by holding your breath." He turned to the chalkboard and started to write pi and some weird symbols and circles and scientific words on it. "If you will just focus your attention on the blackboard, I will explain to you by use of the mathematical Gretionderecawexyconal theory, contrived by Roumualdo Gretionderado, which explains this process."

Duncan coughed. "Maybe another time, George. We are trying to read a book. . . ."

George nodded several times. "Of course, Your Majesty. Happy reading, everyone." He grabbed the edge of the chalkboard and dragged it out of the room behind him.

"Wait, wait, George!" Halt called.

George stopped and turned around. "Yes, Ranger Halt?"

"There's something I've always wanted to do." Halt stood up and moved over to the chalkboard—or the blackboard, according to George. He reached up and ran his fingers noisily down the surface of the board, producing an annoying screeching sound.

Everyone in the room cringed. Some covered their ears. "Ahh, stress reliever," Halt sighed and returned to his seat.

George hurriedly exited before anyone else decided to take a turn, but not before shouting, "YOU HAVE RUINED MY BEAUTIFUL BLACKBOARD!" He pronounced beautiful 'be-yoo-tea-ful'.

They exchanged that-was-weird glances and Will finally continued to read:

"'**Congratulations. It's been a long five years, hasn't it?'**

"**Skinner was currently being hugged by his tearful mother, a rather massively built woman who dwarfed her slim, dark-haired son.**

"'**I'm so proud of you! So proud! If only your father could be here!' she was saying. Skinner managed to extricate himself from her bear hug long enough to shake Will's hand.**

"'**There, there, Mother,' he said. 'It's all right.' Then to Will, he admitted, 'Sometimes I thought I'd never make it.'**

"**Will nodded. 'Particularly over the last few months?' he asked, and Skinner's eyes widened in surprise.**

"'**How did you know that?'"**

"Yeah!" Gilan shouted. "How did you know my pancakes were going to turn out bad?"

Rodney looked at Gilan, wide-eyed. "Pan—you know what? I'm not going to ask."

"'**We all feel that way at the end,' Will told him. 'You realize what a big task lies in front of you.'**

"'**You mean . . . you felt that way too?' Skinner said in disbelief. Skinner found it difficult to believe that a legend like Will Treaty could ever feel self-doubt.**

"Since when am I a legend?" Will asked.

Crowley turned to Halt. "When was it? After helping with the treaty with Skandia or rescuing Erak?"

"I think it was the treaty with Skandia," mused Halt.

"**Will smiled. 'I was terrified,' he admitted. 'But trust your training. When you get your assignment, you'll find you know a lot more than you think.'**

"**He left Skinner engulfed by a further explosion of motherly pride and moved on to Clarke, who was surrounded by a small group consisting of his parents, his brother, and his mentor. After offering his congratulations, Will asked, 'Any idea where you'll be assigned yet?'"**

"You know," Malcolm said, "I have one question."

Halt sighed. "I think this is the first time in maybe ten years that I have been asked only one question."

"What kind of a name is Skinner?"

Horace raised an eyebrow. "This coming from the guy whose two best friends are named Orman and Trobar?" Malcolm decided to ignore him.

"**Clarke shook his head. Will could see the sudden uncertainty in his eyes as he registered the fact that he would be moving away from the protective wings of his mentor and striking out in his own fief.**

"'**It'll be somewhere nice and peaceful, I'm sure,' Andross, his mentor, said reassuringly. 'We don't usually throw new Rangers in at the deep end.'**

"'**You'll be fine,' Will told him."**

"Or will he?" Sean said in an eerie voice. "Tune in next time on Reading The Kings—"

"We aren't stopping in the middle of a chapter, Sean," Xayh interrupted.

"Fine. . . ."

"**Clarke grinned. 'Anywhere would be peaceful without Andross's snoring,' he said.**

"**Andross raised his eyebrows and looked sidelong at the younger man. 'Is that so? Well, just pray that you're not in the fief next to mine or you might still hear me.'"**

A round of laughter went around before Will could continue.

"**Will joined in the general chorus of laughter. Then Clarke's younger brother, looking admiringly at his newly elevated sibling, asked, 'Will you be allowed to come home and visit for a few days before you go?'**

"**Clarke looked to Andross, who nodded. 'New Rangers get a week's leave with their families before taking up their posts.'**

"**As he looked around the circle of happy faces, Will felt a small twinge of regret. There had been no happy, admiring family to wish him well when he graduated. Then he shook the moment of melancholy away. There'd been Halt, he thought. And Halt was family enough for anyone."**

Pauline sighed. "True that," she muttered.

"Hey!" Halt protested. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. . . ." Halt scrutinized his wife then decided to drop it.

"**Crowley was shoving his way through the crowd now to put an arm around the shoulders of each of the new apprentices.**

"'**Why are we all standing here talking?' he cried. 'Let's eat.'"**

Horace grinned. "I like that thinking."

Cassandra sighed. "We just ate, Horace."

"Really? I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry."

"It's a wonder I'm not fat."

All the middle-aged men regarded him. "Just wait until you become as old as us," Crowley said gloomily.

"**The meal was a simple one, but none the less delicious for that. A venison haunch had been turning on a spit over a bed of glowing coals for some hours, the juices and fat spluttering into the fire and raising sudden bursts of flame, filling the clearing with the succulent smell of roasting meat. Two of the Rangers now carved it expertly, placing slices of the juice-laden meat on platters with a fresh green salad tossed with a tangy vinegar and oil dressing. Mounds of fresh fruit were placed along the long table for dessert."**

Horace looked at his wife. "Tell me you're not hungry now."

"I'm not hungry now," Cassandra said.

Will glanced at the group around him. "You know how Xayh said we weren't stopping in the middle of the chapter?"

"Uh-huh," they said.

"Well, I think we might have to. There's another seven pages and it's taken us this long to do four and a half pages."

Xayh sighed. "Fine, but next time we are finishing this chapter no matter how long it takes."

**Yes, so after like a month of not updating, I update and end in the middle of the chapter. Well, hopefully you laughed a little anyway. And I made up the mathematical Gretionderecawexyconal theory and Roumualdo Gretionderado. Have fun pronouncing that. Please review!**


	10. Chapter 7 Continued

**Thanks to NekoAmi1216, Guest Ranger Robbin, Caithlinn13, Ranger indecisive, and Dash99 for their reviews! Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ranger's Apprentice.**

"So, Will," Duncan said, "Are you going to continue reading?"

Will nodded. "No reason not too.

"**After the meal, the Rangers sat back as jugs of steaming hot coffee were set out. Will grinned at Gilan across the table as the tall Ranger reached for a honey pot a few spaces down the table.**

"'**Don't take it all,' he warned. A couple of the older Rangers sitting near them shook their heads in mock condemnation.**

"'**I see Halt's still passing on his bad habits.' said one."**

"Bad habits?" Halt asked. "I have no bad habits."

Pauline raised one eyebrow questioningly. "Is that so?"

"**Crowley announced that the entertainment was about to begin, and Berrigan, a former Ranger who had lost a leg in battle and now traveled the country as a minstrel (and an undercover agent for the Corps), stepped forward with his gitarra. He sang three songs to increasingly boisterous applause, then beckoned to Will."**

"Gitarra?" Horace asked. "Shouldn't that be 'guitar'?"

Crowley shook his head. "Nope. And don't ask why 'cause I dunno the answer."

"'**Come and join me, Will Treaty!' he called. 'Let's see if you remember what I taught you.' The former Ranger had coached Will in his role as a jongleur when he had gone on his mission to Norgate Fief.**

"**Will flushed with pleasure as he rose from his seat to a chorus of friendly catcalls. He made his way to the cleared space at the head of the table where Berrigan was performing. One of the junior apprentices had been sent to fetch Will's mandola from his tent—he rarely travelled anywhere without it—and passed the instrument to him now. Will strummed a chord experimentally."**

"Mandola? I always thought you had a lute," Halt said.

Will face-palmed. "Halt, take a music class please.

"'**I tuned it,' Berrigan told him, and Will frowned as he adjusted the top string.**

"'**So I see,' he replied, straight-faced, and a ripple of amusement went through the audience. Berrigan nodded appreciation of the gibe.**

"'**What shall we start with?' he demanded. But Will was ready for that. It was the first trick of the trade Berrigan had taught him. A professional entertainer is always ready with a song, he had told him. Hesitation marks you as an amateur. '"Jenny on the Mountain,"' he said promptly."**

"Jenny's on a mountain?" Gilan asked, shocked.

"No, Gilan, I'm right here," Jenny sighed.

"Oh."

"**Berrigan smiled at him. 'I see you've remembered some things, then.'**

"**They performed together for three songs. Will had a pleasant voice, and Berrigan slipped effortlessly into a harmony as the younger man sang the melody. Will had to admit that they sounded pretty good together. But after the third song, he laid the mandola down.**

"'**You also taught me not to overstay my welcome,' he said and he took his seat to a round of appreciative applause, content to watch the master performer for the rest of the evening."**

"Why can't you learn not to overstay your welcome around me?" Halt grumbled.

"'Cause I like annoying you."

"So I can tell."

"**He rejoined Berrigan for the final song. It was the unofficial Ranger anthem, a haunting ballad called 'Cabin in the Trees', and those assembled all joined in, singing softly along to the chorus.**

"'**Going back to the cabin in the trees—"**

Instead of complaining because Will sang the first line of the chorus, the other Rangers joined in:

"'**Going back to the creek beneath the hill. **

**There's a girl used to live there when I left. **

**But I doubt she'll be waiting for me still.'"**

Their soft voices drifted away as the chorus finished.

"**The gentle, simple song of lost love and country living was a marked contrast to the harsh and dangerous life that Rangers led. Maybe that's why they loved it as much as they did, Will thought. As he and Berrigan strummed the final soft chord, there was a sigh from the audience, then silence fell over them. Will glanced down the table and saw that the faces of his comrades, so often set in stern, harsh lines, had softened as they thought of old friends and times gone by.**

"'**Right, everyone! Attention, please!' Crowley let the moment of reflection extend for a decent interval, then brought everyone back to the present. 'Last official piece of business for this Gathering. Assignments and reassignments for the coming year.'**

"**As Crowley took his place at the head of the table, Will resumed his seat opposite Gilan. There was a tightness in his stomach as he waited for Crowley's next words. He'd been assigned to the sleepy backwater of Seacliff Fief for long enough, he felt.**

"**Perhaps it was time for something more challenging."**

Crowley nodded. "You needed to be reassigned. That was becoming easy and boring to you and you might have become less careful as a result."

"'**As some of you know already,' Crowley began, 'Alun has decided to retire.'**

"**Alun was the Ranger of Whitby Fief. Now he would move to Castle Araluen, as was the custom for retired Rangers, where he would assist with administrative tasks, taking some of the paperwork burden from Crowley's shoulders."**

Crowley sighed. "I need another twenty Rangers to retire before I die from too much paperwork."

"**He was a popular figure, and there was a round of warm applause as he stepped forward to receive his Gold Oakleaf—symbol of a retired Ranger—from Crowley.**

"**There was also a scroll of commendation from King Duncan, thanking Alun for his many years of loyal service to the crown.**

"'**I'll think of you all,' Alun said, smiling around the circle of familiar faces. 'I'll think of you when I'm tucked up in a warm bed at Castle Araluen and you're all out sleeping in muddy ditches and drafty barns.'"**

The Rangers grinned. "Is that ever true," Gilan said.

"**A chorus of cheerful abuse met this comment, and his smile widened. Yet Will could see a hint of wistfulness behind the smile. Alun would miss the freedom of the hills and forests and the excitement of facing the unknown with every sunrise.**

"**But his retirement meant there was a vacancy for one of the graduating Rangers to fill. Not Whitby, of course—it was one of the more important fiefs in the kingdom, set almost exactly in the geographic center of the country, where all the major highways intersected and several important trading routes met.**

"**Briefly, Will entertained the hope that he might be appointed to Whitby. He had proven himself over the past two years, he thought, and he knew that Crowley respected his abilities.**

"'**Which leaves a place for us to fill at Whitby,' Crowley was saying. 'And the new Ranger for Whitby Fief will be . . .'**

"**Crowley couldn't help himself. He paused dramatically to ensure he had the attention of all those present."**

Horace started a drumroll and almost everyone else joined in. It went on for a couple seconds before Halt and Pauline glared the participants down.

"'**Gilan.'"**

Horace started to cheer before Rodney reached over and smacked him. "Gilan got this position a while ago, Horace."

"Ohhhhhh. . . ."

"**Will felt an instant shaft of disappointment, followed almost immediately by a sense of happiness and pride for his friend. Gilan was rising from his seat, his face flushed with pleasure, as he moved forward to accept the written commission from Crowley and shake the Commandant's hand. Gilan deserved the recognition and Will felt guilty about that moment of jealousy that had gripped him when Gilan's name was announced."**

Gilan raised an eyebrow. "I think you're happier this way."

Will nodded. "Very much so.

"'**Well done, Gilan. You deserve this,' Crowley was saying.**

"**There was a murmur of agreement from the audience. Gilan was highly skilled, responsible and very intelligent. He was generally regarded as one of the brightest of the younger Rangers. In addition, his family connections would stand him in good stead at Whitby. His father was the kingdom's supreme army commander."**

Halt snorted. "WHAT?! Responsible? Intelligent?"

"Well, in the books he is," Xayh said. "When I write him, not so much."

"Sooooo true," everyone muttered.

"**As Gilan moved to resume his seat, Will rose and embraced his friend.**

"'**Congratulations. Couldn't have gone to a better man,' he said. He was pleased to realize that he meant it. And he knew that he had been unrealistic in hoping for the appointment himself. He was definitely too young. Gilan smiled at him, still a little overcome with this unexpected promotion.**

"'**Well, at least we'll be a lot closer to each other now,' he said. 'That's good news.'**

"**His words raised a nagging doubt in Will's mind. Whitby and Seacliff were almost neighbors, with only one other fief separating them. But now that Gilan was moving from Norgate, someone would have to replace him. Will faced that prospect with some misgivings. After all, with his knowledge of the fief and its people, he was the logical choice."**

"I'm glad you weren't appointed there," Alyss said.

"Me too," Will said.

"**Yet, eager as he was for a greater challenge, the prospect of moving to Norgate was one that filled Will with dismay.**

"**At Seacliff, he was only a few days' ride from Redmont—and Alyss. In the past months, he had been able to make regular trips to visit the tall, beautiful girl. And she had found several occasions to bring messages to Seacliff—doubtless engineered by her benevolent mentor, Lady Pauline, who thoroughly approved of the growing relationship between her protégée and the young Ranger.**

"**But Norgate! Norgate was several weeks away from Redmont. And the roads were often difficult and dangerous. To visit Alyss for one day would mean taking a leave of absence of almost a month from his post. And Norgate wasn't the sort of fief that a Ranger could leave to its own devices for long periods. He might manage it once a year, certainly no more than that.**

"**His heart was in his mouth as he watched Crowley pick up the next commission from the table."**

"You know," Gilan said, "I've always wondered how you get your heart in your mouth. Do you cough x amount of times and your heart gets stuck in your—" Gilan stopped when he heard a continuous thunking sound. "Halt? Why are you hitting your head against the wall?"

"Oh, no reason besides ALL MY FORMER APPRENTICES ARE IDIOTS!" he shouted the last part.

"Wait—who?" Will asked.

Halt almost screamed, but Pauline reached over and grabbed him by the arm. "Halt, why don't we talk for a minute?" It was more of a command than a question. Pauline motioned to Will to continue and she and Halt left.

"Anger issues," Malcolm sang. Everyone glared at him.

"'**Norgate Fief will be the new posting for one of our most respected Rangers. . . .' Again he paused for dramatic effect. Will could have cheerfully leapt up and throttled him. Get on with it, he wanted to yell. But he forced himself to continue to breathe deeply, to relax."**

"Whoa, even more anger issues!" Malcolm exclaimed. He was quickly silenced by a hefty copy of _The Count of Monte Cristo_ making contact with his face. Will smiled happily.

"'**Harrison,' Crowley announced, and Will felt an enormous tide of relief sweep over him.**

"**Harrison was in his late thirties. Dependable and trustworthy rather than brilliant, he had been badly injured in a battle with Iberian pirates some years previously and appointed to the small, sleepy fief of Coledale while he recuperated. Now fully recovered, he was an ideal choice for Norgate.**

"'**Time we put you back to work, Harrison,' Crowley said.**

"'**I'll be glad of the chance, Crowley,' the short, powerfully built Ranger replied."**

"What is with all these short Rangers?" asked Horace.

Gilan glowered at him. "I may not be super tall but I'm not short."

"You're like the only one though."

"Hmph."

"**Will nodded to himself. Norgate could use a steady, dependable hand on the reins. And Harrison would cope well with the Baron and his Battlemaster—both of whom were inclined to be a little pompous at times."**

"_Understatement_," Malcolm said emphatically.

"**The final appointment was to replace Harrison at Coledale and that commission went to the new graduate, Skinner. He flushed with pride as he received his commission scroll from Crowley. The Commandant then turned to the other graduate, Clarke.**

"'**Clarke, I'm afraid there are no other vacancies at the moment. It was a tough choice between you and Skinner, but his Assessment marks shaded yours just a little. I'm sure that one of the old fogies out there'—he swept his arm around the assembled Rangers and there was a ripple of laughter— 'will be retiring within the next six months or so . . . once Alun tells them about the advantages of a warm bed. Then you'll have your appointment. In the meantime, you'll move to Castle Araluen and work as my personal assistant. How's that?'**

"**Clarke nodded his thanks. Crowley's duties as Commandant sometimes conflicted with his work as Ranger of Araluen Fief. Clarke could fill in for him as acting Ranger in his absences. It was a good solution to the problem. The boy would gain experience in the field, and Crowley could shed some of his workload."**

"And I need it," Crowley groaned.

"You really hate paperwork, don't you?" Cassandra asked.

Crowley nodded.

"**Crowley folded up the sheet of notes he had been using for reference.**

"'**And that just about winds us up. There are no other assignments to discuss. It's been a good Gathering, and I thank you all for your efforts. So now let's have a glass of wine and call it a night.'**

"**As the assembled Rangers broke up and moved off, forming smaller groups, Will sat quietly for a few moments. He was relieved that he hadn't been sent to Norgate. But he couldn't help feeling a little disappointed at being overlooked. He knew Crowley didn't move people around merely for the sake of it—a Ranger formed a special bond with the fief he was assigned to. But still, very little happened in Seacliff these days.**

"**He shook himself irritably. You worry they'll send you to Norgate and then when they don't, you feel slighted, he thought to himself. And he was honest enough to grin at his contrariness. Then he felt a hand on his arm and turned to find Crowley beside him.**

"'**Give me a minute, please, Will?' Crowley said. 'There's something we need to discuss.'"**

"Oooh, what are you guys gonna discuss?" Jenny asked.

"Seeing as I just finished this chapter, you'll have to wait," Will said.

Halt and Pauline entered the room again.

"Feeling better, Halt?" Alyss asked.

"Yeah."

Just then Duncan's phone rang. "Wake up, it's time, little girl, wake up/All the best of what we've done is yet to come/Wake up, it's time, little girl, wake up/Just remember who I am in the morning/You're losing your memory now/You're losing your memory now/You're losing your memory now/You're losing your memory," started playing on the ringtone.

"Wow, Duncan, you're losing your memory?!" Horace exclaimed.

"Not again!" Halt shouted.

**This chapter wasn't as crazy as they usually are but hopefully you liked it! The song is Losing Your Memory by Ryan Star. I don't own it and it's an amazing song. Please review!**


	11. Chapter 8

**Thanks to Book Soldier, Ranger indecisive, Caithlinn13, AriannaTheRanger, Dash99, TugLover98, and moniquebowman for their reviews! Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ranger's apprentice BBC's Sherlock, or **_**The Very Hungry Caterpillar**_

"So," Will started, "who wants to read next?"

"Well, seeing as Arald and I aren't going to be here that long, I will," Rodney said and took the book from Will.

"**Halt was trapped. He cursed himself for taking the enemy so lightly."**

Gilan tsked. "_What _did I say about profanity, Halt?"

"I don't take lessons from you," Halt practically sneered.

"_Halt_," Pauline said, appalled. "What did I say about being rude to your former apprentices?"

"Sorry, Pauline," Halt muttered apologetically.

"**Once he'd reached Abelard, he had easily outstripped his pursuers. Gradually, their shouts died away to silence and, confident that he had shaken them off, he eased Abelard down to a trot. He had no idea that another group of enemies were on horseback and had been riding to flank him and cut him off from the main highway that led back to Redmont Fief.**

"**Worse still, this second party had dogs. Abelard sensed them long before Halt did. He saw the little horse's ears prick up and heard the nervous, warning whinny. A tremor ran through the sturdy horse's body. Halt could feel it and knew something was wrong. He urged Abelard into a canter once more as the sun showed itself above the rim of the trees."**

"I thought you liked dogs, Halt," Will said.

"I do, but these are mean dogs."

"Why are they mean?"

"Because they were trained to be mean."

"Why were they trained to be mean?"

"Because they wanted the dogs to be mean," Halt said, quickly losing his patience.

"Why did they want the dogs to be mean?"

"_Because they did_," Halt said, trying to hold on to the final shred of his patience.

"I'll explain it all later, Will," Alyss intervened.

Halt sighed and breathed a thank you.

"**Then he heard the baying and realized that his pursuers had managed to get between him and the highway. He angled Abelard back, hoping to outdistance them and loop around the end of their picket line.**

"**That was when the first of the dogs burst from the trees."**

Rodney started to read as dramatically as he could—and that was pretty dramatic.

"**This was no tracking dog. It ran silently, wasting none of its energy on the baying and howling of the others. This dog was a killer. A war dog, trained to chase silently, then attack without warning and without pity.**

"**It was huge, its short coat mottled grey and black and its eyes blazing red with hate. It saw its quarry now and leapt at Abelard, aiming for the horse's throat with its massive fangs."**

Alyss and Jenny gasped.

"**Any normal horse might have frozen in terror or shied violently at the sudden attack. But Abelard was a Ranger horse, well trained, intelligent and courageous. He spun on his rear legs and skipped sideways, avoiding the headlong rush of the monster with a minimum of panic and with just the amount of movement necessary. Abelard's instinct, borne of long years of experience, told him that his best defense lay with the figure seated astride him. And a violent, sudden reaction could unseat his rider.**

"**The dog's jaws snapped shut on empty air, missing the horse's throat by centimeters."**

The girls breathed sighs of relief and relaxed.

"**It hit the ground, spun and tensed, ready to spring again. Now, for the first time, it uttered a sound . . . a deep rumbling snarl."**

Malcolm screamed and fell off the couch he had been perched on. Duncan snorted and started to laugh hysterically. "Oh my . . . gosh. . . . Your . . . your face! Priceless. . . . So . . . priceless. . . ." A chorus of laughter started up and went on for a minute or so before everyone calmed down and Malcolm sat down again.

"**Which was cut off almost instantly by Halt's first arrow.**

"**Faced with a head-on target, the Ranger waited until the dog had lifted its head to sound that snarling challenge. Abelard stood rock steady, giving Halt a stable platform. Then Halt shot for the throat, the impact of the heavy arrow, with the eighty pounds of draw weight from his bow behind it, sending the dog staggering backward and sideways.**

"**The second arrow, coming within seconds of the first, struck the snarling killer in the heart, dropping it stone dead."**

"Why couldn't we have just given Rodney a very undramatic chapter?" Jenny moaned.

Sean sighed. "I think he could make _The Very Hungry Caterpillar _dramatic."

"Hey! That's my favorite book!" Gilan protested.

Halt face-palmed.

"**Halt patted his horse's neck. He knew the strength of will it had taken for Abelard to stand steadily, allowing him to shoot. He understood the depth of trust the little horse had just placed in him and was glad he hadn't let his old friend down.**

"'**Good boy,' he said quietly. 'Now let's get out of here.'"**

"Whoa, Halt," Cassandra said, "you really should talk more. This is the first time you've talked this chapter and that's to your horse!"

"I talk just as much as necessary. You over-talk."

"No such thing."

"You haven't lived with Will for five years."

"Point taken."

"**They wheeled, running at a tangent to the way they had come. The country was unfamiliar to Halt, and for the moment all he could do was try to put distance between himself and the baying hounds—as well as any other war dogs that might be loping silently through the woods after them.**

"**The baying was still close behind them as they broke clear of the heavy tree cover and began moving up a slope. The ground was covered in waist-high gorse and shrubs, dotted with rocky outcrops and occasional groves of trees. But as he neared the top, Halt saw, too late, that he had made a mistake. What he had taken to be a hill was a bluff—a sloping piece of ground that gradually narrowed and led to a sheer cliff overlooking a deep, wide river."**

"I _knew_ you made mistakes!" Will, Horace, and Gilan shouted in unison.

"_Halt_, have you been brainwashing these three young men into thinking that you never make mistakes?" Pauline asked, aghast.

"Maybe. . . ."

"More like 'yes'," Will muttered.

Pauline sighed. "We really have to talk when this book is over, Halt."

"Yes, honey," Halt said meekly.

"**He wheeled Abelard and began to race back down the slope. But they hadn't gone far before he saw mounted figures moving in the fringes of the trees at the base of the hill. It was too late to head back down. They were trapped halfway up. As he watched, another massive grey-and-black shape detached itself from the group and came arrowing up the slope after them, belly close to the ground, huge fangs bared in a murderous snarl.**

"**Abelard rumbled a warning.**

"'**I see him,' Halt said quietly, and the horse relaxed, his faith in Halt absolute.**

"**Ordinarily, Halt was fond of dogs. But this was no dog. This was a pitiless killing machine, perverted by its cruel training so that it sought only to kill and kill again. He would destroy these beasts without a qualm."**

"Now do you understand why I killed that dog?" Halt asked.

Will nodded. "But you like Ebony, right?"

"Of course I like Ebony."

"Okay!" Will said brightly.

"**The dog was fifty meters away when Halt slid from the saddle, nocking an arrow as he did so. He let the ravening animal draw closer. Thirty meters. Twenty-five.**

"**Abelard whinnied in mild consternation. **_**What are you waiting for?**_**"**

"You know," Crowley said, "that's a good question. What are you waiting for, Halt?"

"I'm not waiting for anything," Halt said, slightly confused.

"Everyone's waiting for something, Halt. You see, I'm waiting for the day when there is no more paperwork. It's best just to let it out now."

"Umm, I don't really know what you're getting at here. . . ."

"Don't worry, Halt, in the Circle of Crowleyness, everything is epic!"

"Fine. . . . I'm waiting for Sherlock season 3! Happy?! Why did Sh—?"

"NO SPOILERS!" Will shouted.

Rodney coughed. "If you don't mind, the Circle of, um, Crowleyness will have to resume at another point in time."

"Oh, sorry," Crowley muttered.

"'**Settle down,' Halt told him, and released.**

"**It was an instant killing shot. The running dog simply collapsed in mid-stride, its legs buckling under it, head dropping so that it rolled several times, its momentum carrying it forward, before it came to a stop. A dead stop, Halt thought grimly."**

"Just when aren't you grim, Halt?" Alyss asked.

"When I'm messing with your husband."

"**Abelard whinnied again. Halt thought he could detect a note of satisfaction in the sound, but he may have imagined it.**

"'**I told you I know what I'm doing,' he said. But then he frowned. Because he wasn't sure what he was going to do next. He could see men emerging from the trees, gesturing upward as they saw him and Abelard halfway up the slope. Several of them were carrying bows and one of them began to raise his, an arrow on the string."**

"Can you, like, _not_ read so dramatically this time?" Malcolm asked. "I think I peed my pants last time."

"Ewww," everyone groaned.

"I said I thought, not that I did!"

Rodney decided to continue, but took pity on the bird-like man and read less dramatically:

"**He'd barely begun to draw when a black-shafted arrow hissed downhill and sent him tumbling back into the trees. His companions looked at his lifeless body, looked again at the indistinct figure above them and saw he was nocking another arrow.**

"**As one, they broke back for the cover of the trees, stumbling over the excited hounds as they beat them out of the way. The second arrow slammed, quivering, into the trunk of a tree at chest height. The message was clear. Don't show yourself if you wish to remain healthy."**

"More like if they wanted to remain alive," Halt muttered.

"**In the confusion, none of them saw the grey-cloaked figure lead his horse into a jumble of rocks. When they looked back up the slope, there was no sign of man or horse.**

"**The day wore on. The sun rose to its zenith and began to descend towards the western horizon. But still the Outsiders could see no sign of the figure up the hill. They knew he was there—somewhere. But exactly where, they had no idea—there were at least half a dozen piles of tumbled rock that could be sheltering the stranger and his horse. And they knew if they tried to rush blindly up the hill, they would pay for it with their lives."**

"Smart people," Duncan said.

"**In the mid-afternoon, they released another war dog to see if it might flush the Ranger out. The dog swung back and forth, sniffing the air for some trace of its prey. Then, catching a faint scent on the breeze, it began to run—the remorseless, belly-to-the-ground lope of its kind.**

"**All eyes were on the dog as it settled into its stride. That was a mistake, for no one saw where the arrow came from as it struck the dog down and sent it rolling back down the slope, eyes glazed, tongue lolling."**

"Okay, never mind. Not so smart people," Duncan said.

"**Up the slope, behind a tumble of large boulders, Halt glanced to where Abelard lay, legs folded underneath him so that he was completely concealed from view.**

"'**In Gallic,' Ranger said conversationally, 'this might be called an **_**impasse**_**. But you should know that. You speak Gallic, after all.'"**

"What? Since when can horses talk?" Horace asked.

"They can't, Horace," Duncan sighed.

"**He expected no answer from the horse, of course. But Abelard tilted his head at Halt, liking the sound of his voice.**

"'**The question is, what do we do next?'"**

Crowley smiled brightly. "Another great question for the Circle of Crowleyness. . . ." he trailed off at the look on Rodney's face.

"As I was saying:

"**Again, Abelard had no answer. And for once, neither did Halt. He knew that when darkness came, he could make his way down the bluff and slip through the line of watchers. Even the dogs would pose no real problem for him. The wind had shifted so that it was blowing from them to him. They wouldn't pick up his scent until he was past them.**

"**But the problem was Abelard. He couldn't hope to take the horse with him and avoid detection. Even if the men didn't see him, the dogs would certainly hear some slight noise from the horse's hooves on the ground. Ranger horses were trained to move quietly. But even they had their limits.**

"You're not going to leave Abelard behind, are you?" Arald asked.

Halt sighed. "This happened like five years ago and I still have Abelard, Arald. Of course I didn't leave him behind."

"**And Halt wasn't going to leave Abelard behind. That was unthinkable. He had no idea whether there were any more of the killer dogs waiting down there in the tree line. If there were, Abelard on his own wouldn't stand a chance.**

"**He considered moving back up the slope to the cliff. He'd seen the river winding below the bluff, some ten to twelve meters below. If the water were deep enough, he could survive a jump into it. But Abelard wouldn't. They would fall at the same speed, but the horse's extra mass meant he would hit the water with far greater force than Halt would. And unlike his master, Abelard couldn't streamline his body to reduce the impact when he hit the surface of the water. He would land on his belly."**

"KA-SPLASH!" Will shouted.

Sean banged his head down on the end table next to him. "Gah! How do you deal with this on a daily basis, Halt?"

"I have no idea."

"'**So we can't go up, and we can't go down,' Halt said.**

"**Abelard snorted. **_**You'll think of something.**_

"**Halt raised an eyebrow in his direction. 'Don't be too sure of it,' he said. 'If you get any ideas, I'd like to hear them.'"**

"And it is again proven that Halt is not omniscient!" Crowley shouted.

"We all knew that, Crowley," Pauline said.

"No, we didn't," Will, Horace, and Gilan said in unison.

"**The sun was well below the treetops in the west now. The light on the slope was becoming uncertain. Halt peered through a small gap in the rocks. There was no sign of movement below.**

"'**Not yet,' he muttered. 'We'll see what happens when it's full dark.'**

"**Sometimes, he thought, all you could do was wait."**

"WAIT!" Gilan shouted.

"Why?" Rodney asked.

Gilan shrugged. "I like cats."

"Okay, well, that's nice to know. Can I continue now?"

"Yeah."

"**As night fell, he unpacked a folding canvas bucket from his saddlebag and half filled it with water from one of his canteens so that Abelard could drink. He was a little thirsty himself, but he felt he could wait a while longer.**

"**He listened carefully to the night sounds that began to fill the still air. Frogs, and a persistent cricket somewhere. The occasional cry of a hunting owl. From time to time, small animals scuttled through the gorse and the long grass. Each time he heard such a sound, he'd look inquiringly at Abelard. But the horse showed no sign of interest, so Halt knew they were all naturally made.**

"**He fully expected the Outsiders to make some sort of probe during the night. That was one reason why he listened so carefully to the sounds of animals and birds. He was attuning himself to the spectrum of natural sounds around him, absorbing the pattern so that anything foreign or different would stand out like a splash of paint on a blank canvas."**

Will pulled a blank canvas out from behind one of the couches. He dipped a brush into a pot of royal blue paint and splashed it across the canvas. "I just don't see the resemblance," he mused. Everyone face-palmed.

"**There was another reason. He wanted to find a sound that wasn't there so that he could use it as a signal for Abelard. He listened carefully for some minutes, then decided.**

"'**A kingfisher,' he said softly. Strictly speaking, they weren't nocturnal birds. But occasionally they would take advantage of the fact that mice and small animals felt free to scurry around in the darkness. If his enemies heard the sound, they might be suspicious. But they couldn't be sure that it wasn't a real kingfisher stirring."**

"What's wrong with a blue jay?" Gilan asked.

"Nothing," Halt answered.

"Then why didn't you use a blue jay?"

"Because I didn't want to use a blue jay."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Yes, it worked out fine."

"How do you know?"

"Because this happened in the past."

"Oh, I knew that," Gilan said in a voice that said he clearly didn't.

"Hmph," Halt muttered.

"**He moved toward Abelard and gestured with his palm upward. The bent-kneed reclining position wasn't the most comfortable for the horse, and he responded gratefully, coming to his feet. In the dark, there was little chance of his being seen above the rocks.**

"**Abelard stood still as Halt moved toward him. The Ranger reached out and smoothed the soft texture of the horse's nose, stroking him three times. Then he placed both hands on either side of the muzzle and looked into the horse's eyes. He squeezed his hands together twice and saw Abelard's ears prick. It was a long-established training routine, one of many shared by Rangers and their horses. Abelard knew that Halt was about to teach him a sound. And the next time Abelard heard that sound repeated, he would be expected to respond to it.**

"**Softly, Halt emitted the low, gurgling chuckle of a kingfisher. It was a good approximation of the real thing, but not perfect. If there happened to be a real kingfisher in the area, Halt didn't want Abelard becoming confused. The horse's acute hearing would pick the difference between the real thing and Halt's impersonation. A man might not.**

"**Abelard's ears flicked forward and back twice in quick succession—his signal to Halt that he had registered the sound. Halt patted his muzzle again.**

"'**Good boy,' he said quietly. 'Now relax.'"**

"You know, Halt," Crowley said, "I think you talk to Abelard too much. I mean, _no one_ in the corps talks that much to their horse."

Halt raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Well, do you remember Cropper's ninth birthday and you through a humongous birthday bash for him? Then I'm the only one that came (dunno why I did),_ and then _you spent the whole rest of the _week_ consoling the horse, even though he couldn't care less."

"He did too care! He wouldn't touch an apple the whole week!"

"That's because he was too busy eating all that sugar you brought him!"

"He seemed to like that."

"He also became pretty fat."

"No, he didn't!"

"He gained twenty-three pounds for heaven's sake!"

"You're one to talk, Halt," Crowley snorted.

"I'M NOT FAT!"

"I'm talking about Abelard, Halt. Not you."

"Oh. That happened because I was younger and not as wise."

Crowley started to think of a biting comment, but Rodney quickly started reading again before he could speak again:

"**He moved back to his vantage point among the rocks. There was a cleft between two of the larger boulders where he could sit, his head and face concealed by the cowl of his cloak, and survey the darkened expanse of the hillside below him. The moon wasn't due to rise for at least four hours. He assumed that the enemy, if they were going to try anything, would do so before the slope was bathed in moonlight.**

"**From time to time he heard the muted yelping and snarling of the dogs as they fought among themselves, then the cries of their trainers as they silenced them. They'd be the trackers, he knew. The massive, iron-jawed war dogs wouldn't make noise. They were trained not to.**

"**He considered the possibility that the enemy might unleash another war dog under cover of darkness but decided that it was unlikely. They had already lost three of the monsters to his arrows, and dogs like that were not to be squandered. They took years to breed and train. No, he thought, if an attack came, it would be men who launched it. And before they did that, they'd have to scout his position.**

"**At least, that was what Halt was hoping for. He was beginning to see the first glimmer of a way out of this predicament. Carefully, he set his bow and quiver down beside the rocks. He wouldn't be needing them. Any confrontation during the night would be at close quarters. He reached now into his saddlebag and found his two strikers."**

"What are strikers?" Jenny asked.

"The next paragraph explains that," Rodney answered. "I think they're a bit like brass knuckles.

"**These were unique Ranger weapons. They were brass cylinders, as long as the breadth of his hand with a lead-weighted knob at either end. When held in a closed fist, the strikers turned the fist into a solid, unyielding weapon, with the weight lending extra force and authority to a punch. They could also be clipped together, forming a throwing club that had the same balance as a Ranger's saxe knife.**

"**He slipped the two heavy cylinders into the side pocket of his jerkin.**

"'**Stay here,' he told Abelard, although there was no need to do so. Then, belly to the ground, using his knees and elbows to propel himself, he slipped out of the cover of the rocks and moved downhill. Thirty meters below the spot where he'd taken cover, he stopped, slumping prone in the undergrowth, his cloak rendering him virtually invisible as soon as he stopped moving.**

"**Now all he had to do was wait.**

"And that's all for this chapter," Rodney concluded.

They heard Xayh sigh. "Well, that's good. We're edging toward four thousand words."

"And I want more coffee!" Horace announced.

**So, super long chapter. It probably took you like half an hour to read this. Unless you're really fast at reading, which I am not. Anyway, please review!**


	12. Chapter 9

**Thanks to Lorrie the Ninja Elf, TugLover98, i'masian-aru, Caithlinn13, Savannah Silverstone, AreiaCananaid, Dash99, PJoHoOFan, Guest Shian, an anonymous Guest, another anonymous Guest (sorry, occupational hazard. I'm afraid it's not going to change much though), and Guest Hehe king da man for their reviews! Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ranger's Apprentice, Sherlock, or My Little Pony.**

"So, Arald, do you want to read this chapter?" Rodney asked.

Arald nodded and took the book from the battlemaster. He started to read:

**"Will and Crowley slipped quietly away from the other Rangers, the sandy-haired Commandant leading the way through the trees to a small, quiet glade. When he was sure there was nobody else within earshot, Crowley stopped and sat on a tree stump, looking up quizzically at Will."**

"Oh, so they call Mr. Carrot Top 'sandy haired'?" Halt mused.

"Well, it's more sandy now that I'm older," Crowley replied.

"It's more white than 'sandy'."

"And you're starting to get a bald spot," Crowley countered.

"Girls, girls, you're both pretty," Pauline said.

Arald sent a silent thank you to Pauline and continued to read:

**"'Disappointed that I left you in Seacliff?' he asked.**

**"'No! Not at all!' Will answered hurriedly. Then, as Crowley continued to look at him, Will stared at the ground. 'Well, perhaps a little, Crowley. It's awfully quiet there, you know.'"**

"Don't see how that can happen with you there," Halt muttered. Will cast him a glare.

**"'Some people might not think that's a bad thing. We are supposed to keep peace in the Kingdom, after all,' Crowley said.**

**"Will shifted his feet awkwardly. 'I know. It's just that. . . .'"**

"There's this red-headed girl I hate," Alyss muttered.

"You're still mad about that?" Will asked.

"You know what they say, women seldom forgive and never forget."

Halt shuddered and cast sideways glance at his wife. "How true. . . ."

**"He hesitated and Crowley nodded his understanding. Will had crammed a lot of excitement into his relatively short life. The fight with the Kalkara, the destruction of Morgarath's secret bridge and his subsequent kidnapping by Skandian pirates. Then he'd escaped from captivity, played a pivotal role in the Battle for Skandia and returned home in triumph. Since then, he'd helped rescue the Skandian oberjarl from desert bandits and staved off a Scotti invasion at Norgate."**

"Wow, you have done a lot of stuff," Jenny said, wide-eyed. Will nodded happily.

**"With a history like that, it was small wonder that he'd developed a taste for adventure-and that he found the uneventful life at Seacliff more than a little restricting.**

**"'I understand,' Crowley told him. 'You don't need to explain. But I have to admit that I haven't been totally forthcoming with you.'"**

"Hmm, Crowley, was that the first time you understood something?" Halt said jokingly.

"At least I have understood something," Crowley responded and Halt gave him a mock hurt look.

"Ow, Crowley. That's just _harsh_." Crowley just smiled.

**"He paused and Will looked at him curiously. **

**"'Forthcoming?'**

**"Crowley made an awkward gesture with one hand. 'There's something I've been meaning to discuss with you,' he said. 'I think it's important, and I think it's a big opportunity for you. But you may not agree. As a matter of fact,' he added as an afterthought, 'it's partly the reason why Halt didn't come to this Gathering.'"**

"Ooooh, do we get to hear a big secret about Halt now?" Cassandra asked.

"No, unfortunately," Will said.

"Dang it!" Cassandra muttered.

**"Will frowned, puzzled by the news. 'But I thought he-'**

**"'Oh, he's off chasing down rumors about the Outsiders, all right. But that could possibly have waited. He used that as an excuse because he didn't want to influence your decision one way or the other.'**

**"'My decision? Crowley, you're talking in riddles. What decision? What is it that Halt didn't want to influence me about?'"**

"Crowley isn't smart enough to talk in riddles," Halt said.

Crowley gasped. "Halt, that's _mean_."

"Your point?"

Crowley gasped again and started to say something.

Pauline quickly cut him off by saying, "The point is, Crowley would be the crazy cat dude if we let him and you would be hanging with Moriarty."

"I would not!" they both protested. Pauline raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"And that was random," Duncan muttered and motioned for Arald to continue.

**"Crowley indicated for Will to take a seat beside him and waited till the younger man was comfortable.**

**"'It's an idea I've been tossing around for some time,' he said. 'Since you all went racing off to Arrida to fetch Erak back, as a matter of fact. Our world, or rather our sphere of influence in the world, is growing larger every day, Will. It extends past fief boundaries, past our own national boundaries at times.**

**"'The Skandian operation was one example. So was your assignment in Norgate. We were lucky that we had someone as accomplished and capable as you to take that on, and that your own post at Seacliff was relatively quiet.'**

**"Will felt his cheeks flushing at Crowley's praise, but he said nothing. Crowley continued."**

Horace gasped. "I think that might be the first time when you didn't say anything!" Will smacked him playfully on the arm.

**"'Ordinarily, I couldn't drag a Ranger out of his fief and send him somewhere else for weeks on end. But more and more, we're facing that sort of necessity. Someday soon, for example, someone's going to have to go to Skandia to see how the treaty arrangement is working-how our archers are faring over there. Who do I send? You? Halt? You're the two logical choices because the Skandians know you and trust you. But what happens to your two fiefs in the meantime?'**

**"Will could see the problem. But he had no idea where Crowley was going.**

**"'That's why I want to form a Special Task Group,' the Commandant said. 'And I want Halt and you to run it.'"**

"Oh, dear," Malcolm said. "Will's in charge of something?"

"I was in charge of the siege of Macindaw!" Will protested.

"Hey! That's the actual title of the book," Xayh shouted.

"Do we have to read that one too?" Sean complained.

"No, but if you complain any more, I'll make you read _The Siege of Macindaw_ and _The Sorcerer of the North_!" Xayh threatened.

"Fine. . . ."

**"Will leaned forward, thinking over Crowley's words. Already, he was interested in the idea and wanted to know more.**

**"'Special Task Group,' he repeated, liking the sound of the words. 'What would we be doing?'**

**"Crowley shrugged. 'Any situation, either within Araluen or overseas, that requires more than a routine response.**

**"'Now that the threat of Morgarath has been removed, and with our northern border secured, Araluen is a powerful and influential player on the international stage. We have treaties in place with half a dozen other countries-including Arrida and Skandia, thanks to your own efforts.**

**"'I'd like to think, and the King agrees with me, that we could have a small team ready to respond to any emergency that might crop up. Incidentally, I'd see Horace as part of that team as well. In the past, the three of you have pulled off some amazing successes. He'd remain based at Araluen until such time as he was needed. Then he'd be detached to work with you and Halt. And you'd be able to recruit other people as you needed them.'"**

"OMG!" Gilan exclaimed. "Can I go on a mission with you guys?!"

"NO," Halt said forcefully.

"Why not?"

"You'd start fanboying about My Little Pony and let everyone know where we are hiding."

"Oh, that happened once, didn't it?" Gilan asked. Halt nodded sagely.

**"'And I'd be based . . . where exactly?' Will asked. Crowley's face showed a hint of concern. He hesitated before he answered.**

**"'That's the problem. We can detach one knight from the Royal Guard without too much trouble. But we can't have two fiefs, yours and Halt's, left without their Rangers for extended periods of time. You'd have to give up Seacliff.'**

**"'Oh,' Will said. Seacliff might be an unexciting little fief, but it was his. He represented the King's authority on the peaceful little island and, much as he had been anxious for change earlier in the evening, the thought of simply giving it up came as a wrench to him."**

Gilan frowned and held up a wrench from behind the couch. "This is what you felt when you had to give up Seacliff?" Everyone face-palmed.

**"'Exactly,' Crowley said, reading his thoughts. 'That's why Halt didn't want to be here when you decided. He knows that having your own fief is a big thing for a Ranger. It means independence and authority, and he didn't want you to be influenced by his presence when I put this to you. He said he'd love to have you back at Redmont, but it had to be your decision to-'**

**"'Back at Redmont!' Will said eagerly. 'You didn't mention that!'"**

Halt shook his head sadly. "Don't interrupt people, Will."

"Halt, I believe you just interrupted Arald," Alyss said smoothly.

Halt glared at her. "You're just like Selethen."

**"Crowley frowned, then nodded. 'No. I suppose I didn't. Well, that is the plan. You'd take over Halt's cabin-he and Pauline are very comfortable in the castle these days-and you'd oversee one half of Redmont Fief while Halt looked after the other. It's a big fief, after all. There'd be plenty to do for both of you.'**

**"A huge grin was spreading over Will's face at the thought of it. To go back to Redmont, where he'd grown up. To be with Halt and Baron Arald and Sir Rodney.**

**"And Alyss. The grin, already wide, grew immense."**

"Awwwww," the women said while Will looked on with a red face and a hint of a smile.

**"'I assume from the ridiculously happy look on your face that the idea meets with a certain amount of approval?' Crowley said."**

Halt reached over and high-fived his friend. "You're moving ever closer to sarcastic!" Crowley grinned.

**"'Well . . . yes, actually. It certainly does. But-' A thought struck him, and he frowned at it. Crowley gestured for him to continue.**

**"'Problem?' he prompted.**

**"'Redmont is an important fief,' Will began. 'You can hardly leave that without a Ranger in place if Halt and I have to attend to matters somewhere else.'**

**"Crowley beamed at him. 'I was hoping you'd raise that. Now I get a chance to show what an administrative genius I am. Gilan's new fief adjoins the northeastern border of Redmont. In fact, Castle Whitby is less than ten kilometers from the border.' He raised a hand to still Will's instant question. 'Yes, yes. I know, Whitby is an important fief too. So that's why, if you agree to all this, Alun will base himself at Whitby rather than Castle Araluen. He can still attend to paperwork and administration for me, and he'll be on hand if you and Halt are called away. In such a case, Gilan moves into Redmont Fief-'"**

"You? A genius?" Halt said. "I don't think so."

"Hey! You just complimented my potential sarcasm and now you're insulting my geniusness!" Crowley exclaimed.

"No genius says made-up words like geniusness."

"Humph," Crowley said.

**"'Which he is familiar with anyway,' Will added.**

**"'Exactly. He served his apprenticeship there, after all. Then Alun can resume temporary duty as Ranger of Whitby. And, of course, young Clarke will take your place at Seacliff. Didn't I say I'm a genius?' He spread his hands, as if looking for praise.**

**"Will nodded acknowledgement. 'I have to agree.'"**

Halt gasped. "Don't agree with him!"

"Too late, Halt," Crowley said in a sing-song voice. Halt glared at him.

**"Crowley instantly became serious. 'Of course, we're lucky that at the moment we're blessed with a wealth of talented people. It all dovetails quite nicely. Mind you, you're yet to tell me if you accept.'**

**"'Of course I accept,' Will told him. 'I couldn't think of a better plan.'**

**"They shook hands on it, smiling. Then Crowley said cheerfully, 'Now all we have to do is tell Halt when he comes back from his little holiday by the seaside.'**

"And that is it," Arald finished.

"It was a bit more challenging than a holiday by the seaside, Crowley," Halt said.

"I know."

"Can we order pizza?" Horace asked.

"We just ate!" Duncan yelled.

**Sorry, I would have updated yesterday, but school started yesterday (high school!) so I really didn't feel like writing. But I had my first day of Drama class today and there's only me, my best friend, and an older girl (I have a super small school). Hopefully we can actually do stuff. Anyway, please review! **


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